


To Be Loved With All My Heart

by rab5298



Category: Band of Brothers, HBO War
Genre: Also Doc really needs a hug, Attempting to flirt, Canon Era, Caring, Comic relief from Spina and Luz, Doc Roe is a sweetheart, Doc also rambles when he tries to make a point but it's cute., Doc can't flirt but it's adorable, Doc is also quite the romantic., Drama, Elements of Sadness but also happiness, Episode: s01e06 Bastogne, Eugene is a gentleman, F/M, Français | French, Gen, Heartbreak, His inner thoughts are the complete opposite of his personality and it's hilarious, Intimacy, Lines from the show, Mild Sexual Content, Not a Mary Sue, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Self-Insert, Sexual Tension, Then trying to play it cool, There will be a saucy and sexy moment that happens but not til much later in the story., WWII, War, Young Love, happy reunions, hbo, lots of cute moments, memories of home
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2019-09-01 20:11:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 26
Words: 86,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16772065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rab5298/pseuds/rab5298
Summary: It's December 1944. Easy Company holds the line in the Ardennes near Bastogne, a task the Toccoa paratroopers are seeing far more difficult to tackle due to a lack of proper resources. Surrounded by the enemy and suffering from heavy casualties, any chance of hope looks bleak for the Screaming Eagles. Still, through the artillery shellings, the paratroopers have survived this far thanks to one of their own.Eugene Roe, Easy's soft-spoken Cajun medic, is feeling the brunt of the war the most. He is on the verge of succumbing to combat fatigue from treating wounded soldiers and is running dangerously low on medical supplies. He often puts himself in harm's way to provide the best care, a method that's worked for him since the start of the war, however its slowly beginning to take a toll. While on a supply run to Bastogne, Eugene meets a beautiful nurse who seems to understand him better than any of the soldiers he’s fighting besides, resulting in the two falling in love. But Eugene's biggest challenge will be facing the harsh reality of war, both for soldiers and others alike. Will he prevail and not succumb to the stress to keep himself and the soldiers together? Morphine, scissors and bandages are mandatory.





	1. 16 December 1944: Ardennes Forest: The Bois Jacques

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note  
> This is a work of fiction based off of my favorite episode from the HBO miniseries Band of Brothers, titled “Bastogne.” The story is shown through Eugene “Doc” Roe’s perspective and how he is on the verge of succumbing to combat fatigue while he is treating several wounded men during the Battle of the Bulge. For some time now, I did want to write a story about Doc, mostly after my friend Ben gave me the idea to write something about him when I was trying to come up with another idea for an earlier story. Plus, he’s such an underappreciated character who really does deserve so much better and is my favorite character on the show!  
> The story is not about Doc finding a girlfriend; it’s about him trying to do his difficult job the best he can and coincidentally he meets a nurse who understands what he’s going through, resulting in attraction and falling in love, something that almost seems impossible during the time of war but can happen. With that being said, there is going to be graphic depictions of violence and gore, along with profanity. It’s to showcase history and what war really is: destructive. Another thing to mention, the characters you will meet throughout the story were real people, however I am going off of the actors portrayals since they all did such a wonderful job of bringing these men’s stories to life on the screen.  
> I do hope whoever reads this story will enjoy it, especially if you are a fan of Band of Brothers just like me! Use your imagination. Really hear the sounds of everything that is within these pages, from character voices, explosions, the crunching of boots on freshly fallen snow, everything! Imagine the frigid air of December in the Ardennes and how it would make you feel knowing that you’re running out of supplies and you’re completely surrounded by German soldiers with no way for backup to get through to you to try to help with the situation. 
> 
> I hope you like it!  
> -Rachel
> 
> *The cover for the story was designed and drawn by me!*
> 
> Check out my Songs of WWII Playlist that I created specifically for this story!  
> https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc

Silence. It can either be a blissful or an unsettling thing, a double edged sword as one would call it. Blissful if it’s at home, safe from potential harm and curled up under a blanket reading a book, unsettling if it’s a war being fought in a foreign country with the only sound that could be heard was the crunching of a soldier’s boots on newly fallen snow. Tiny white snowflakes fell from the sky blanketing the world in white, giving off a haze similar to a thick morning fog. There was no color, except for a patch of blood that looked fresh and a tan sleeve of a jacket with a white band and a red cross on it, a brighter shade of red than the blood on the snow. The figure was a man, an army medic: an American soldier from the Airborne Division. 

The medic reached down to the red stain and touched his thumb to his middle finger, circling it around the small sample of blood, his other hand blocking out the brilliant white snow to examine the substance: freshly spilt and still warm meaning somebody had died recently. He wiped the blood off of his long fingers with his other thumb, before standing up. The man stuck his hands into his jacket pockets for warmth as he walked, raising his shoulders up to his ears to block out the cold from under his steel helmet. He was a handsome man who was no older than twenty-three, with hints of scruff on his face, but not enough to make a full mustache or beard. The man continued his walk through the woods until his gentle dark blue eyes had witnessed another horrific sight: two soldiers laying motionless, frozen and now part of the earth they once walked on. The man ran away from the scene back further into the area where the rest of his regiment was. 

The commanding officer sat on the edge of his foxhole, holding a tray of ice, breaking it with a large knife. He was a tall man with bright red hair, with fair, but firm hazel eyes, the most respected officer in Easy Company, maybe even the most respected out of the entire 506th PIR and 101st Airborne Division: Captain Richard Winters. He doused his face with a brush, smearing the white shaving cream on his face. Winters saw the medic coming through the haze, glad the young man had found his way back except he had the feeling they weren’t the only ones near the CP. 

“Doc, Doc, Doc,” he said in a loud whisper. Doc took a knee as Winters grabbed his gun, signaling for the medic to come closer. Doc gripped the handle of his shovel that was strapped to his leg for his only visible weapon, aside from his hands. He crept over to Winters with utmost caution, keeping himself low to the ground as Winters raised his weapon out in front of him.  _ “Kommen sie hier. Kommen sie hier, schnell! Schnell!” _ A German soldier hiding through the fog pulled his trousers up and raised his hands above his head. 

Doc stood quietly as Winters checked to see what kinds of information the German had on him. Doc hoped it was medical supplies for he was running dangerously low on almost everything one could name in an aid kit. The German held his hands behind his head as the thorough search continued.

“Doc, bandage,” said Winters. He tossed a small roll of bandages to him. Doc caught them and stuffed it inside of his medic’s satchel. “Take him back to regiment.” Doc stood against a nearby tree, as more officers who were much higher up than Winters came over to join them. Doc held his hands in front of his stomach patiently, sometimes rubbing them to keep them warm. 

“Gents, you all know General McAuliffe, acting division commander,” said one of the COs. He was an older man with a grey mustache who wore a long grey trench coat over his uniform: Easy Company’s Commanding Officer, Colonel Robert Sink.

“Give it to me straight,” said McAuliffe. Doc continued to fumble with his hands as the officers explained what was going on, or looked towards the ground, trying to occupy his mind with what he needed for supplies.

“We’re under sporadic artillery fire, general,” said Winters. “We’re taking a lot of hits and we have no aid station. We’ve run out of food, we have no winter clothes and we have little or no ammo. The line’s spread so thin, the enemy wanders in and out of CP to use our trenches, sir. We just can’t cover the line.”

A tarp lifted from a nearby foxhole. Another soldier emerged, half awake, his dark hair all askew. He was wrapped under a blanket, clearly too comfortable in his own little world. The soldier glanced at his surroundings seeing whose voices were speaking, unless if he was still dreaming.

“Morning, Capt. Nixon,” said Sink. “You got anything to add for Gen. McAuliffe?” Nixon seemed to wake up more after that remark.

“General...Uh, yes, sir.” He climbed out of the hole, still looking half awake. “General, I took a walk on our line about 0300 last night. I couldn’t find the 501st on our right flank. I tied it up with a squad from our 2nd Platoon, but sir, we’ve got some considerable gaps in our perimeter.” Winters was too caught up in the conversation, he had forgotten that Doc was still there.

“Doc?”

“Can I scrounge a bandage from your aid kit, sir?” he said. He spoke in gentle and soft-spoken tones, never sounding too demanding of anything. Winters opened his aid kit, giving him another bandage. 

“How are you fixed?” Doc tucked the bandage into his satchel and adjusted his strap. 

“No plasma, couple of bandages, practically no morphine,” he said. “In fact, I tried to find my way up to 3rd Battalion looking for supplies, but I lost my way.”

“If you can’t get over to 3rd, hook up with Doc Ryan,” said Winters. “He’ll fix you up with what he has to spare.” 

“Thanks, captain.”Doc began making his way back through the snow-covered forest.

“Eugene? Get everything you can; you’re gonna need it.” 

Doc came to a clearing in the forest where there were a few more foxholes, littering the ground. Another medic was busy shoveling the ground, trying to make his hole stronger, a familiar face he communicated the most with, despite being seemingly detached from the other soldiers in Easy Company. The medic wore a knit cap with a visor, his dark hair poking out from underneath it. He was sporting a green military jacket with a Screaming Eagle patch on his left shoulder. He too wore the same white armband with a red cross on it like Doc.

“Spina,” said Doc. Ralph Spina. Perhaps the only person in Easy Company Doc could confide to about everything and the one person he didn’t mind splitting supplies with for it was like a secret code a pair of young boys would say to each other.

“Doc...” replied Spina. 

“What’s happening?” Spina stopped digging his hole and slung his shovel over his shoulder like a proud warrior showing off his sword to an adoring crowd.

“We’re digging in right along the line,” he said. 

“Yeah?” said Doc. Spina took his shovel off of his shoulder and placed it into the ground, holding the top part of the handle. 

“Yeah. This it it.” Doc stepped into his friend’s foxhole. He took his satchel off of him as he tried to position himself comfortably in the circle. “So, what’d you get?” Doc checked his pockets and took out a small item that looked like it was wrapped in paper. He removed the paper around the item to reveal a morphine syrette.

“I got---uh, I got this, and I got myself a Kraut bandage,” he replied. Doc continued holding the small syrette, turning his hand slightly to see how much he could get out of it, if it was used sparingly in case if the other soldiers were to get hit. Spina looked at the syrette with widened eyes glistening with worry.

“What? This is it?” said Spina in disbelief. 

“Yeah, that’s it,” said Doc. “That’s all we got. You know, 1st Battalion pulled out of Foy. Heavy casualties.” He looked at the syrette he was holding intently. He bit on the inside of his lower lip wondering how could he find morphine, better yet where could he find more morphine.

“So if they’re pulling back, what the hell are we doing sitting here?” said Spina. Doc tucked the morphine syrette back into his satchel.

“We need morphine. This is all I got,” said Doc. “You got extra scissors?”

“Just the one.” 

“Damn.”

Another soldier approached the foxhole the two medics were sitting in. His whole demeanor heavily read incompetent. He looked extremely lost like he didn't know what he was doing in the Ardennes or why he was here in the first place. His brown eyes scanned the area, possibly looking for someone who seemed to know more than he did. Unfortunately, he was Easy's new CO: 1st Lieutenant Norman Dike. 

“First Sergeant Lipton?” he said. His voice sounded confident and crisp like any good CO’s should sound, except his whole body language read he had no idea what the hell he was doing. 

“Sir,” said Lipton. One of the other officers Doc liked besides Winters. Lipton was best known for trying to keep the morale of the soldiers up and to push them to try and be their best selves; a good quality that reminded him of himself when he first enlisted in Lafayette. Dike lost his train of thought when Doc and Spina were sitting across from each other in the foxhole.

“What’s this? Two medics in one hole?” said Dike.

“Yes, sir,” said Spina, attempting to keep his tone professional. 

“Well what’s gonna happen to us if you take a hit, huh?” said Dike sounding more doubtful. 

“Sir?” said Lipton raising one of his eyebrows with confusion, wondering why Dike needed him in the first place. The lieutenant scanned the area, forgetting what he needed Lipton’s assistance with in the first place. 

“First Sergeant, where’s my foxhole?” Lipton stood up and brushed the snow off the back of his trousers, pointing Dike in the right direction.

“It’s back here, sir,” he replied. “Maybe you missed it, huh? I’ll walk you back, sir. You’re a bit close to the line here.” 

“Goddamnit,” said Dike. Lipton used his hand to guide the lieutenant like he was a naive schoolboy who still did not know his way around, even though he was shown several times. Doc and Spina were left to themselves, the two medics giving each other a look that read the same thing: Dike was a lost cause. Doc remembered training at Camp Mackall in North Carolina; during a field exercise, the former CO of Easy Company, Herbert Sobel was leading them, except he had managed to give away their position. If that had happened during the real thing, almost all of the regiment would be severely wounded or dead. 

Doc tucked the morphine syrette back into his satchel pulling himself out of his daydream. He was on a mission to gather as much morphine as he could find and couldn’t waste too much time getting caught up in his own thoughts. He pushed himself up to the edge of the foxhole and stood up, dusting off the back of his uniform pants.

“I’m gonna look for more supplies,” said Doc. “Spina, if you need me, you know what to yell.”

“Good luck, Gene,” said Spina. Doc turned on his heel into another area , hoping some of the other soldiers in Easy Company would be able to give him what he needs.

Doc approached another soldier who was sitting in a foxhole who appeared very cold and very uncomfortable. The soldier had a square jawline and wild brown eyes and a well defined jawline that was covered with dark stubble across his pale face. The lapels of his jacket were hoisted high up against his ears for extra warmth.

“Sgt. Guarnere, did you keep any of your morphine from Holland?” said Doc. Guarnere held his hands up his armpits so they wouldn’t freeze from frostbite.

“No.” he said bitterly. The look of discomfort was clear as day. If he moved, whatever pain he was having would only make it worse. “Hey, Doc, I gotta talk to you.” 

“Later.” Doc walked away from Guarnere’s hole to another soldier brewing coffee over a steel helmet. Despite him looking chilled, his brown eyes shown with content, perhaps about the fact he finally had something warm to hold in his hands. He too had brown scruff on his face, more than what Doc had, except it was a well taken care of five o’clock shadow. Doc crouched next to the soldier, watching the line with caution and not getting too comfortable.

“You seen them?” said Doc. The soldier continued stirring the coffee with a ladle.

“No,” he replied. “But they’re out there. Depend on it.” The soldier poured the coffee into a small cup. “Cup of Joe, Doc?” 

“No. Gordon, I need scissors. You got scissors? Sharp scissors.” Smokey Gordon let out a soft chuckle as he looked over the small flame, turning the dial to keep the brew warm.

“Scissors?” said Smokey. “Well, let’s see, I’ll have to check the sewing room. Might be upstairs in the study, the skinny old drawer of the desk.” Doc lowered his head and chuckled softly and rested his arm across his kneecap.

“All right. What about an extra syrette in your aid kit, huh?” said Doc. Smokey glanced over to the other soldiers with a warning look.

“Hide your morphine, guys--” before the other soldiers in Easy could interject, a loud artillery explosion went off putting the small band of soldiers on high alert. The three soldiers rolled forward together perfectly in sync.

“Muck, you alright?” said a soldier with dark red hair.

“I’m good,” said another soldier with sandy brown hair. Doc ran towards the scene of the attack as another artillery shell struck close to where he was.

“Muck! Malarkey! Penkala!” called Doc. He stood towards the outside of the foxhole, ducking his head and keeping low to avoid unwanted contact with Kraut fire. 

“We’re okay!” called Malarkey. The shelling had lulled, but it would only be a matter of time before another one decided to strike. Muck took off his helmet and looked at it with displeasure.

“Will you look at this shit? They peppered my helmet!” he cried. Muck placed his helmet back onto his head quickly and rummaged through his pockets pulling out another spare morphine syrette. “Hey, Doc! Morphine! Here, take it.” Muck tossed the syrette up to Doc. He caught it in both of his hands swiftly and kept his head low.

“Where’s Penkala?!” said Doc doing his best to stay calm in the dire situation. 

“Christ knows,” said Malarkey. 

“Medic! Doc! Medic!” The voice cried out above the artillery fire coming from the opposite side of the forest. Suddenly, an artillery shell exploded near him. Doc dove towards the ground in a roll, falling on his side, rolling like a log would as he held on to his helmet to protect his head. He recovered quickly, getting his bearings straight, seeking temporary shelter behind a tree. Doc stood up and placed his hand over his medic satchel in case if he needed to grab something quickly, breaking into a run in the process. He ran through the smoke towards another set of foxholes. 

“You guys hit?” called Doc. He continued to run towards the sound of the voice in distress. He slid into another hole for cover with two soldiers: one whom had thick dark eyebrows and a pointed but firm jawline, perhaps maybe around the same age or younger than Doc and another with no sign of scruff on his face, fresh like a newborn baby, as Doc fell on top of both of them.

“Jesus, Doc what are you doing?” said the baby faced soldier. He spoke with a South Philly accent, unhappy that he was getting squished and pushed by another soldier.

“You crazy?” said the foxhole mate. Doc looked out to the direction of the voice calling for help; he was very close. 

“What are you looking at him for? Watch the goddamn line!” said the baby faced soldier. 

“You got a syrette?” said Doc. He raised an arm over his head as the two soldiers with him sunk lower into the hole, avoiding the impact of the shelling.

“What?” said the baby faced soldier.

“Medic!” cried the voice. 

The baby faced soldier helped Doc out of the hole. “Go.” Doc ran through the clearing to see where the source of the voice was coming from. The soldier’s arm was bleeding heavily. His hand was clenched into a tight fist, hoping it would stop the shooting pain he was feeling. A heavy set soldier with blonde hair and usually seen with a fat cigar hanging out of his mouth tried to keep the soldier’s mind off the discomfort.

“Doc!” cried the heavy set soldier. 

“Penkala!” cried Doc. He slid next to the soldier with a slightly rounded nose and tight lips as he continued to cry out in pain. Doc took out a roll of bandages and a small packet of sulfa powder. 

“It’s the artery! I can feel it!” said Penkala. Doc grabbed a hold of Penkala’s arm trying to see how bad the damage was, however Penkala was much too tense, causing more blood to spill. 

“Penkala, let go!” called Doc. 

“It’s the goddamn artery!” grimaced Penkala. Doc tried to wrap the bandage around the wound except Penkala was going to bleed straight through it if he didn’t relax his arm in time.

“Penkala, loosen your fingers, goddamnit! Loosen them now!” The words that came out of Doc’s mouth only made Penkala more stubborn. 

“I’ll bleed to death,” he said. That was one of the things Doc didn’t like whenever someone needed help: they always thought of the worst that was yet to come, even when he was working on them. The best approach to this in Doc’s mind was to stay calm, speak to whoever was hurt gently and get the job done as quickly and efficiently as possible. The method usually worked like a charm for he knew if he was panicking, it wouldn’t do anybody good.

“Relax your arm, Penk! Come on!” said the heavy set soldier. Doc looked at the wound again; nothing vital was damaged.

“It’s not the artery,” he said calmly. Doc felt Penkala’s arm become lighter as soon as he said that, allowing him to finish the job easier. The shelling was louder as it got closer to the soldiers. 

“I ain’t going back, Doc,” said Penkala.

“What?” said Doc a little louder. He held the bandage in place as he lay on his stomach trying not to get hit.

“I ain’t going nowhere, not in this shit!” called Penkala.

“You don’t wanna go out in this shit and you’re yelling ‘medic?’” called Doc. He started to fasten the bandage in place as quickly as he could.

“I don’t need to go back to no aid station!” protested Penkala.

“Well you’re in luck, Penkala,” said Doc. “We don’t got no aid station.” The shelling had quieted down as the soldiers caught their breath. Doc raised his head cautiously to make sure the coast was clear. “Penkala, scissors. I need scissors. You got scissors?”

“What the hell I need scissors for?” said Penkala scrunching his face into confusion. 

“Got your aid kit?” said Doc. Penkala reached into his uniform and took out his small aid kit. He handed the package over to Doc. “Right, well you don’t need this. Not yet. I do.” Doc pushed himself up on his elbows, back up to standing. He took off towards another foxhole. He jumped into the hole where Spina and Babe were sitting. 

“Who got hit?” said Spina. 

“Penkala,” replied Doc. He handed the aid kit over to Spina. “Alright, here, this is what I want you to do. I want you to take someone and work your way over to 3rd Battalion, alright? You know what we need. Bandages, plasma, whatever you can beg, you beg, alright? And get me some goddamn scissors. I can’t get any. And get yourself a hot meal too, huh? Go.”

Spina and Babe nodded their heads as they left Doc to himself. Doc tried to sit himself up in a more comfortable position. He took his helmet off of his head, running his fingers through his dark hair out of frustration, letting out a discontent sigh. He shut his eyes as he leaned his head back and lowered himself into his temporary home, opening his eyes again for he knew he was probably going to be needed again---and fast, not giving him much time to decompress. 

Doc didn’t mind becoming a medic for the payment was excellent, however there were several times where he questioned himself as to why he’d put himself through so much suffering, just so he could give the best care he could provide. Nobody, except for Spina knew how difficult it really was, keeping the soldiers calm and focused on something else other than the pain they were feeling so he could do his job properly. Time continued to drag on and the more he realized, it was becoming harder to perform his job without a good night’s sleep.


	2. 16 December 1944: Ardennes Forest: The Bois Jacques

The sun sank behind the clouds slowly, day changing rapidly into night as Doc sat in his hole, sometimes coming in and out of sleep. His eyelids drooped over his war weary eyes, sometimes flying back open if he caught himself dozing for a few seconds. He blinked a couple of times trying to resist the sweet temptation of sleep. His mind started to reflect on what he had to do to get to this particular moment of his life. He thought about how he enlisted in Lafayette and how the recruiting officer overlooked him, thinking he wasn’t good enough. 

Sleep became heavy in his eyes, the temptation pulling him in further and deeper into a comfortable place. Doc couldn’t fight the exhaustion forever. If there was one thing he remembered from some of the other recruits, dehydration and fatigue were a soldier’s worst enemies. He rested his eyes for a few minutes, hoping that would give him enough time to recharge. He dreamt about Toccoa, another set of trials he had to complete before he was deemed worthy to fight amongst the best group of paratroopers he’d serve under. 

It was July of 1942. Easy Company was doing their daily three miles up, three miles down run of Currahee. The weather was warm, except the atmosphere was hot, sticky and uncomfortable. Being from the south, Doc was used to extensive heat waves, however, he now understood why other people complained so much if it was too hot. Doc hadn’t been running for long as sweat seeped through his clothes and stuck to his body, his dark hair clinging to his forehead like static, his cheeks rosy from exertion. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a tall, skinny man who was barely breaking a sweat jog next to them, hearing him drilling some of the other soldiers, himself included. It was the face that still haunted him sometimes in his dreams with a long, unpleasant face, but the most unreliable man he’s ever met: Captain Herbert Sobel.

_ “You have 13 minutes to get to the top of this mountain if you want to serve in the paratroopers!” _ he heard him yell.  _ “Hi-yo, Silver! You’re sucking wind, Roe. Move it! You wanna be in the paratroopers as a medic? Move that skinny ass!” _ Doc grit his teeth in determination, ignoring the fact his legs felt like gelatin. Regardless of how much he hated Sobel, Doc told himself this was what he wanted; he was going to work for it no matter how long it took. 

_ “We are coming up on 23 minutes. That may be good enough for the rest of the 506, but that is not good enough for Easy Company!” _ Doc’s dream flashed to another area of training. He wore a pair of green training fatigues, except he was covered in mud and dirt. He crawled as fast as he could go using his elbows and knees to shimmy forward. It was a training simulation where he’d practice to treat wounded men. 

_ “You call that fast, Roe? Your fellow soldier is gonna bleed out if you don’t hurry up!”  _ said Sobel.  _ “He’s probably already dead! What are you doing?!” _ Doc tuned out Sobel’s harsh remarks and kept going as quickly as possible.  __

Doc jolted himself awake from his dream seeing he was still in the cold forest. He blinked his bleary eyes to clear the sleep from them as best he could. He wrapped the blanket around himself as he tried to push the thoughts of that terrible man out of his mind. Every time Sobel popped into his mind, he wanted nothing more than to shove a pair of sharp scissors up his pathetic ass. Doc couldn't get himself to fall back to sleep again, even if he wanted to for he still needed supplies badly. He wondered what time it was and had almost forgotten he had sent Spina to find supplies, hoping he had better luck in finding 3rd Battalion than he did.

***

Spina and Babe walked through the eerily quiet forest. Snow began falling obscuring their vision and making the temperature drop lower. Spina shoved his hands into his pockets tailing behind Babe. He kept his shoulders up and looked around the area for any Krauts that could be hiding.

“You know, he told me he’s a goddamn virgin,” said Babe. He kept his gun low to the ground. 

“Who?” said Spina. He took his hands out of his pockets briefly, rubbing them together and blowing into them to get some heat flowing.

“The replacement in my foxhole, Julian,” said Babe. Spina raised his shoulders up to block out the cold.

“Yeah?” he said.

“Goddamn virgin. Just a kid,” said Babe sympathetically.

“The only virgin I know is the Virgin Mary,” said Spina. He looked around the area again, causing an unsettling feeling to form in Spina’s stomach. “Hey, Babe? Where the hell are we?”

“This way.” said Babe sounding a bit too sure of himself. The uneasy feeling in Spina’s stomach was telling him they should go back before anything happens to either one of them. 

“I don’t like it…” said Spina. The further the two soldiers got into the Ardennes, the quieter it became. Even Babe was beginning to feel uneasy. 

“Where the hell is 3rd Battalion?” Before Babe could take another step, he felt gravity pull him towards the ground like he was sinking. Spina stopped short, ready to catch his comrade. Babe fell into a foxhole as the snow gave way, except he didn’t land on solid ground. “Shit!”

“Come on,” said Spina. 

“Give me a hand!” called Babe in a panicked fashion. Spina reached for one of Babe’s hands quickly pulling him out as a German soldier poked his head up. Spina and Babe held their breaths as they started to run.

“Hinkle?  _ Scheisse!” _ The German soldier grabbed his gun as he started shooting at the fleeing soldiers. Babe pushed Spina to start running, both of them nearly tripping over each other’s feet.

“Come on, Spina, move!” called Babe.

“I’m moving! I’m moving!” called Spina. The two soldiers didn’t stop running until they were finally away from the German soldier. To their luck, they came across a set of trenches with another group of American soldiers. It had gotten much darker and the snow was falling at a heavier rate.

“About damn time we found them!” said Babe, still feeling the adrenaline rush from seconds before. 

“3rd Battalion are we glad to see you fellas!” said Spina. “We need supplies. You got anything you can spare?”

“We can spare a few bandages, but that’s it.” said a soldier in 3rd Battalion. “No morphine. Gonna have to go back to Bastogne for plasma.” The soldier started walking away in the trench, going through different boxes. Spina and babe followed behind the soldier.

“Bastogne? It took us an hour to find you!” said Spina. 

“Doesn’t your surgeon have plasma?” said the soldier. Spina shook his head as he and Babe continued to follow the soldier. The soldier handed over a box of bandages to Spina. He was right: hardly enough for half of the soldiers in Easy Company if anybody got wounded.

“We don’t have one,” said Spina. “No surgeon, no aid station, no nothing. Just me and my buddy.”

“Sorry, guys, but we just can’t help you,” said the soldier. Another round of shells started to burst close to where the soldiers were. “Take cover!” Spina and Babe leapt into the trench and kept low to the ground as the shells continued exploding. “Get your butts outta here! We’re pulling back!” Babe gave the 3rd Battalion soldier a thumbs up as he followed behind Spina quickly as the sky grew darker, the only source of light coming from the artillery fire.

Doc continued to sit in his foxhole trying to keep his mind preoccupied. He hoped Spina didn’t get lost and was becoming a bit antsy, or perhaps he hadn’t really had anything to eat in several hours. Spina came back, looking like he had just run a marathon as Doc stood up and brushed off the back of his pants. 

“Any luck?” he said. Doc rubbed his hands together quickly. He massaged his fingers to keep some warmth moving through them.

“Good news: we got bandages!” said Spina. “Bad news, no morphine and no plasma.” He tossed some rolls of bandages to Doc as he caught them with one hand.

“That’s alright,” said Doc. “We’ll manage. Where we gonna get some morphine?”

“Bastogne,” said Spina. 

“Is it far from here?” said Doc. He stuffed the roll of bandages into his medic satchel and fixed the strap.

“Not sure,” said Spina. “Someone in Easy probably knows. Hey, Gene? You hungry?” Doc didn’t notice his stomach gurgling at first. He placed his hand against his stomach, hearing the low growl.

“Yeah. I haven’t had anything for hours,” said Doc. “What are they serving?”

“Probably another glorious helping of what the hell am I eating!” said Spina, doing his best radio show host impression. “The dinner of champions and soldiers alike!” Doc let out a soft chuckle as Spina started walking backwards.

“Alright, alright,” said Doc. “Careful, Ralph. Don’t walk into any trees alright? You going that way?”

“Actually no,” said Spina. “Think that Kraut hiding in the foxhole scared the appetite right out of me. “

“Okay,” said Doc. “If you change your mind, I’ll keep a spot open for you.”

“See you, Gene.”

The other soldiers sat together in a small circle chatting amongst themselves as another soldier was pouring food into their tins. Doc sat further away from the others, a large pot resting in front of him, his helmet hung up on a tree branch. He looked over cautiously wondering what they could be laughing about. Malarkey and Muck were laughing joyously, Muck trying not to let the piece of food he was chewing fall out of his mouth.

“Hey! Hey!” said Babe. He crossed his arm over the other so he could get seconds. Doc placed his half smoked cigarette into his mouth, taking a puff of it before taking it out again. He tapped it to release ashes as he tried thinking of another way he could get the supplies he needed. 

“Should have shot Hinkle in the ass!” said Malarkey.

“Hinkle nearly shot him in the ass!” said Muck trying to sustain his laughter as he looked over at Babe.

“Hey, God bless you.” said Babe. Malarkey took a sniff of whatever food substance they were given and made a face.

“These smell like my armpit!” he said looking up at the soldier giving the others food. 

“At least your armpit’s warm,” said Muck, he too giving a strange look at the food, his cigarette hanging from his mouth. 

“You want syrup with that?” said the soldier.

“Yo, be honest what’s in these things anyway, huh?” said Malarkey. 

“Nothing you won’t eat, Malarkey,” said the soldier. 

“I won’t eat, Malarkey,” said Muck in the same tone. The other soldiers chuckled as Doc kept watching from afar. He stirred the ladle in the pot, taking another puff of his cigarette.

“Hey! Hey, maybe Hinkle would like your share, huh?” said Julian just as chipper.

“I should have shot him when I had the chance,” said Babe. 

“You were running backwards, Babe?” said Penkala. Another soldier walked over to the small group of five. He looked like he needed something or was looking for somebody. He was a handsome fellow, except he stood out against the more rugged looking soldiers. He looked too perfect and too clean, perhaps similar to a movie stars or a poster boy for Chesterfield Cigarettes, none other than Lieutenant Thomas Peacock. A real try hard but definitely not fit for platoon leader.

“Anybody seen Lt. Dike?” said Peacock.

“Uh, try Battalion CP, sir,” said Malarkey. Peacock walked away from the group and sighed.

“Try Paris,” said Muck.

“Try Hinkle,” said Malarkey trying not to burst out laughing again, only causing more laughter from the soldiers.

“Hinkle, sweetie I’m home.” said Penkala doing his best German accent. He stood up slightly and moved closer to Babe as Malarkey kept chuckling. Doc kept his head towards the ground, more interested in his cigarette. He kept his thoughts to himself for he was growing tired of hearing about Hinkle and wasn’t one to judge outwardly. He took another puff of his cigarette, the taste becoming more bitter each time he puffed.

“Hey, hey, Eugene,” said Babe. Doc turned towards Babe once he heard his name being called. “Lt. Dike’s got a full aid kit. Try him.”

“Yeah, I’m sure he’s not using his,” said Malarkey trying to suppress another chuckle. 

_ Great. That’s the last person I want to talk to, _ thought Doc.

“Maybe Hinkle’s got a syrette for you,” said Julian. 

“Eat your strudel,” said Penkala. Doc stuck his cigarette back into his mouth. He let out a gentle smile, hiding the fact he really didn’t want to go on a wild goose chase for their newly appointed CO.

“Hinkle Vinkle, eat ze armpit, huh?” said Malarkey doing his best German accent. Doc held back a chuckle as he took another puff of his cigarette.

Night had fallen over the icy forest. Doc started to make his rounds, searching for perhaps the most incompetent man he’s ever met. He wasn’t surprised it nearly took him two hours to find Dike. The lieutenant sat in his foxhole trying to keep warm, looking as lost as ever.

“Lt. Dike. Lieutenant,” said Doc trying to get the man’s attention. Dike turned towards the young medic, trying to look confident. Doc crouched down next to him and rubbed his hands together or pulled the ends of his sleeves over his hands. “Can you spare something from your aid kit, sir? I’m real short. I need syrettes.” Dike looked at Doc like he had just spoken in a foreign language.

“What, morphine?” said Dike.

“Yes, sir,” said Doc, patiently. The sooner he got his hands on the stuff he was looking for, the quicker he would be able to leave Dike’s presence.

“What happens if I get hit?” said Dike sounding extremely cautious. Doc let out a soft chuckle.

_ Do you not see the red cross on my arm?  _ He thought.  _ Why else would I be asking you for morphine? Don’t tell me you forgot what it is you need to yell in case if anybody gets hit.  _

“I’ll be there, sir,” said Doc giving one of his gentle smiles, hoping it was convincing enough. He rocked back and forth on each foot, ignoring the fact that he had been in that position for almost five minutes. Dike took out his aid kit and opened it, doubly confused.

“Syrette’s in here, right?” said Dike pointing to one of the slots. 

“Yes, it is,” said Doc. Lieutenant Dike took out the syrette from his aid kit, handing it over to Doc. 

“Here. I don’t plan on getting hit.” Doc stood up and took the morphine syrette, quickly stretching his legs before stuffing the syrette into his satchel.

“Thank you, sir,” he replied. Babe came through the same area and coughed loudly, one of those awful chest coughs that sounds like the beginnings of a cold. Doc stood up and followed the source of the noise.

“Heffron. Hey, Heffron, you okay?” said Doc. Babe struggled to get one of his gloves off of his hands. 

“Gene, what is with the Heffron bullshit, huh? You know my name. Why don’t you use it?”said Babe, the irritation clear in his voice. He quickly threw off his other glove and unzipped his pants to empty his bladder.

“Uh, it’s Edward, right?” said Doc. Babe zipped his pants up once he finished his business. He picked his gloves up off the ground, shaking them out to dry.

“Edward? Are you serious? Only the goddamn nuns call me Edward.” he said. Babe slipped his gloves back onto his hands.

“Hey, listen. I need to know if you kept your morphine from Holland?” said Doc.

“No, you asked me already! Remember?” said Babe. He fixed the strap of his gun and walked back in the other direction, hoping Doc wouldn’t ask him anymore questions.

“No. I don’t recall.”

Doc continued his rounds for the evening. He hated how quiet it would get at night sometimes, putting him more on edge as to who or what was going to come out at him. His fingers touched a small ring inside of one of his pockets: a ring that used to belong to his grandmother and the same ring his father used to propose to his mother. The ring acted as his good luck charm, giving him some kind of comfort. It helped him after he dropped into Normandy several hours before the D-Day Invasion was to start. It was exactly like D-Day: dark, silent and he was alone. He remembered he landed someplace that was very similar to the Ardennes: dense and thickly settled. He didn’t remember exactly who else he grouped up with, except they all had one common goal: survive the night and find your unit as quickly as possible. 

Doc took himself out of his thoughts as he came up to a foxhole with a black tarp covering it. He slid in seeing Smokey and his foxhole mate trying to stay warm.

“Hey…” said Doc. “Gordon, you want me?” 

“Oh yeah, morphine,” said Smokey. He reached into his pocket, taking out multiple syrettes of morphine wrapped in their little paper packages. “3rd Platoon ponied up the contraband.” Smokey handed the syrettes to Doc. In the dim light of the flame Smokey was using to brew coffee, Doc smiled brightly, the first anyone has probably seen him smile like that in a while. Doc thumbed though the packets, the smile never fell from his handsome face. “You still looking for scissors?”

“Yes, I am,” said Doc. Smokey took a second to go through who Doc might not have spoken too about scissors. A light bulb seemed to go off above his head.

“Perconte.” said Smokey. 

“Perconte…” said Doc. He retraced his steps in his head thinking of where he saw the radioman.  _ More or less he’s probably hanging around Luz _ . Smokey took the cup of coffee off of the flame and handed it to Doc.

“Doc…” He took the tin cup into his hands, a grateful smile on his face for a few seconds of warmth could do anybody some good.

“Thank you,” said Doc. He wrapped his fingers around the cup, no longer feeling frozen.

“Oh, and you better check on Joe Toye out on the OP. He’s missing something,” said Smokey. Doc took a sip of the coffee. The hot liquid touched his lips like a warm kiss. He brought the cup down from his lips and handed it back to Smokey.

“Thanks,” said Doc. He lifted the tarp and crawled back out into the freezing cold. 

Doc kept low to the ground for he heard the sound of gunfire about a mile away, which meant the Germans were close and everywhere. He crawled towards a foxhole where Joe Toye and his foxhole mate Earl “One lung” McClung sat. The two soldiers looked ahead, looking just as cold as Doc was, except they weren’t moving. Doc crawled under a low branch that was acting as a temporary roof, pushing himself forward with his elbows and knees.

“You guys okay?” said Doc.

“They got hot food. Can you smell it?” said McClung almost enticed by the sweet smell of a freshly cooked meal.

“Toye, you missing something?” said Doc. He pushed his helmet up slightly so he wouldn’t hit his head on the overhang.

“Home.” said Toye. 

“Ask him to dance, Doc,” said McClung giving a giddy smile. The three soldiers all ducked at the same time once they heard an artillery blast go off in the distance.

“Toye, show me your feet,” said Doc. Toye lifted his foot slightly to show Doc, however he was missing something that could probably help him out. “Where are your boots?”

“In Washington, up General Taylor’s ass,” said Toye with a hint of bitterness. Doc pushed his helmet up again and massaged his forehead.

“I don’t believe this…” he said placing his fist down on the snow.

“I can move better in bare feet, Doc,” said Toye.

“W-what happened?” said Doc.

“Took them off to dry my goddamn socks and they got blown to hell, okay?” said Toye, sounding a bit upset about that.

“Well, what’s your size?” said Doc. 

“Nine, just like everybody else,” said Toye. Doc nodded his head as he crawled backwards. He brushed himself off as he went back towards the main area where Easy was stationed.

The soldiers were in good spirits that same evening. Most of them sat outside of their foxholes to get some air instead of being tied down in a cramped living space. The night air was crisp as snow continued to fall. 

“Frank, you keep cleaning those teeth, the Germans will see you from a mile away. Shoot you dead,” said a soldier with a square jawline and a natural looking unpleasant expression, except his laughter said otherwise. 

“That’s right, Pee Wee. You keep laughing,” said the other soldier. He was much shorter than the first with tan skin and thick, dark and bushy eyebrows. He held an orange toothbrush in his hands and began cleaning them vigorously. Another soldier with brown hair that was spiked up a little towards the front glanced up upon seeing the medic, now his hair looked flatter and a little longer.

“Hey, Doc,” said Skinny. Doc jogged over to the foxhole and slid into it. He took a hold of Frank Perconte’s stuff and dumped it out all over the hole.

“Doc, that’s my stuff. Aww come on, Doc…”

“What, you got a drugstore in here?” said Doc. He started rummaging through Perconte’s belongings.

“No, I own my stuff,” said Frank. “Well, what are you looking for?” Doc’s face nearly lit up when he saw something silver with two handles, just the thing he was looking for.

“Scissors.” said Doc. He pulled the scissors out of the pocket and left the foxhole. “Thank you, Perconte.”

“Took my goddamn scissors!” said Frank, still not over the fact that Doc didn’t even ask for permission to take them.

Doc continued making his rounds, hoping there was other supplies he could pick up if need be. Thanks to what he was able to find, Doc still didn’t have enough morphine or supplies for his comrades if they were to get hit. He wanted to get the job done quickly before he retired for the night.

“Sgt. Guarnere,” said Doc. Guarnere was paying too much attention to the line, doing a double take upon hearing his name being called. He still looked quite uncomfortable, like his bladder was going to explode at any minute.

“Hey Doc! Doc, come here.” said Guarnere. Doc walked right past him for syrettes were still on his mind, perhaps more important than bandages, since it was to help numb any pain. He came to another foxhole where two soldiers, both with pale skin, one with a long pointed nose and the other with a clean amount of dark brown stubble sat.

“USO picking up syrettes. Alley? Liebgott? You got any?” said Doc trying to give one of his best smiles, despite the fact he was feeling exhausted. 

“No, got used in Holland, Doc,” said Liebgott.

“You ain’t using this stuff are you, Doc? I mean personal, like.” said Alley. 

“Hey Doc. Doc, I still got the itching. Everytime I pee, it’s murder,” said Guarnere. 

“I know, I’m sorry, but I just don’t have the penicillin for your biroute,” said Doc. 

“What?!” said Guarnere. Before he could get another answer out of him, Doc walked away to another soldier. He was sitting on the edge of his foxhole, however he didn’t look too happy like he was frozen to his foxhole

“Lieutenant. Make sure you move around a little, get your blood flowing,” said Doc. 

“I can’t feel my feet,” said Foley.

“Yeah, well, that’s why you gotta move around,” said Doc. “You know, so you don’t get trench foot.”

“Should I take my boots off?” said Foley. 

“All you gotta do is just loosen them up and keep moving,” said Doc. Guarnere had followed Doc hoping he would get a better response. Doc leaned forward slightly to meet Guarnere’s level. “Sergeant, I’m sorry. Look, I know it must be hell, but I can’t help you, alright? Just drink lots of water.”

“Water?! It’s pissing that hurts!” said Guarnere with anger. Another soldier with pale blonde hair that was tucked under a knit cap came over, wondering what the joyous noise was. He had a face that read anyone who met this man could easily trust him. 

“Shut it! Shut the hell up!” he said in a loud whisper. “What’s going on here, Bill? Who the hell’s singing?”

“I’ll find out, lieutenant,” said Guarnere. He left Doc as he started walking back with the soldier with pale blonde hair.

“Stop them from singing,” said the soldier.

“I’ll shut them up,” said Guarnere. 

Doc took a second to get himself together. A lot of the soldiers had made several requests, however he was just one man. He could only work so fast. He brought himself back to his foxhole to think clearly. He took a small prayer necklace from his pocket and wrapped the string around his fingers. A flare shot up into the sky, illuminating the darkened forest, casting shadows that looked like the trees moved. Doc looked up at the brilliant light briefly, watching it fade to black. He turned back to his twine, wrapping and unwrapping it around his fingers saying a prayer quietly to himself.

“Lord, grant that I shall never seek so much to be consoled as to console, to be understood as to understand, or to be loved as to love with all my heart. With all my heart.”


	3. 19 December 1944: Ardennes Forest: The Bois Jacques

An artillery explosion ruptured the peace and quiet early in the morning followed by Skinny Sisk’s voice yelling in distress in the distance. “Medic!” Quickly, Doc ran towards the scene of the attack as gunfire started spraying. Doc followed the sound of Skinny’s voice through the trees, becoming louder the closer he got.

“Medic! Medic!” cried Skinny again. Doc slid into the foxhole next to Skinny and pressed his hand down on the wound to try to put the bone back into position. He took out a packet of sulfa powder and shook the contents inside of it.

“Perconte, you getting a Jeep?” said Doc. He ripped the top part of the packet with his teeth just enough to create a small opening for the powder to be sprinkled.

“I’m on it,” said Perconte.

“Look at my leg!” said Skinny in horror. Frank quickly took his phone off of his radio to call in for help.

“Easy CP. Easy CP. This is Perconte,” said Frank as calmly as he could form the words. 

“Bear with me, bear with me,” said Doc trying to keep Skinny calm. 

“Sisk has been hit. I need a Jeep. I repeat. I need a Jeep now,” said Frank. “Get it moving goddamnit! We need it now!” Frank placed the phone back onto his radio box. “You’ll be alright, Sisk.” Doc elevated Skinny’s leg gently, lightly sprinkling the powder onto Skinny’s leg.

“Okay, Sisk. It ain’t that bad, ain’t that bad,” said Doc still keeping incredibly calm.

“Ain’t that bad?”said Skinny almost in a panic. Doc had finished dressing the wound with the sulfa powder. He pulled out a morphine syrette, quickly removing its covering as he held it in between his teeth. Doc tied a tourniquet around Skinny’s leg to prevent any further bleeding.

“Okay, one pull,” said Doc. He was about to stick the morphine into Skinny when he stopped him.

“No! Doc, save the morphine,” said Skinny. “I can make it. I can make it. Save it.” Doc placed the morphine back into his satchel and turned to Perconte.

“Alright, let’s get him out of here,” said Doc. Both men placed an arm around Skinny’s back, the other under one of his legs, lifting him up like he was sitting in a chair. “Where’s the goddamn Jeep?”

“I don’t know but I hear it,” said Frank. Suddenly, Frank felt Skinny slipping from his grasp and gravity pulling him down to the ground, leaving Doc to try and keep Skinny up as the gunfire blazed. Skinny’s leg bent backwards as he yelled in agony, his helmet knocked off his head a few inches away from him.

“Jesus Christ!” he yelled.

“Aw Skinny, you got blood all over my trousers!” said Frank looking at the blood stain in disapproval.

“I’m real sorry, Frank!” said Skinny through gritted teeth. He continued to writhe in pain as Doc found his footing again, repeating the same process to lift the wounded man.

“Get him up,” said Doc. Frank assisted again, except he was more upset that his perfectly bloused paratrooper trousers had been ruined by blood. The jeep came as soon as the two men lifted him once again.

“Damn it, Skinny…” said Frank under his breath. Doc and Frank lifted Skinny onto the back of the jeep carefully. 

“Tell Spina I went in for plasma,” said Doc.

***

 **19 December 1944: Bastogne, Belgium** : **26 miles from the Ardennes**

The jeep drove as quickly as possible, making the ride up to Bastogne smooth. Doc remembered Spina had mentioned Bastogne to him the day prior, except he had no idea what it looked like. Doc barely had time to think about what the place would look like for the jeep drove onto a cobblestone road. Several people were huddled outside. He saw several soldiers from different units bringing in their own wounded men inside of a grey stone church. Above the front door, a white banner with a red cross was hung up over the large brown gothic doors.

Doc and the other soldiers lifted Skinny and brought him inside of the aid station. As soon as they set foot inside, the entire area of the church was filled with several other wounded men and nurses tending to the soldiers. Doc took another look at the area and thought the quarters the men were in were much too cramped. He hoped there would be enough room for Skinny so he could get treated quicker. He wondered why nobody else had been moved yet.

“All the tanks, artillery, all pulled back to here,” said a soldier. “We got no backup beyond Bastogne. This is it. The Krauts captured the 326th Medical. They took everybody: doctors, medics, the whole shebang. We got nothing. They’re giving the boys hooch for the pain.”

“He took a mortar hit,” said Doc gesturing to Skinny. “Watch the leg.”

“Yeah, watch the leg,” said Skinny. 

“Get him in,” siad Doc. “Coming through. Move it, fellas.” Doc and the other soldiers were about to place Skinny down on the ground when a nurse stopped them. She had gentle hazel eyes and light brown hair that was tied back into a blue headscarf. She wore a brown vest with large buttons and a white dress with blood halfway up one of her sleeves.

“No, no. Here. Put him here,” she said. She spoke with a slight French accent. She looked to be in her late 20s, early 30s. 

“Yes ma’am,” said another soldier. Another nurse came up to her. She was a little shorter than she was and a little younger. Doc caught a quick glimpse at her and instantly became smitten.

 _“Renée, Avez-vous besoin de mon aide pour quoi que ce soit?”_ said the nurse. The nurse named Renée shook her head and motioned for the girl to go back to tending the wounded soldier she was helping out.

“Is he bad?” said Renée.

“No, lower-leg wound. No morphine,” said Doc. “Nurse. Have you got plasma? I can--”

“Wait. Please.” said Renée. She walked away to another area of the aid station. Doc tried keeping close behind her to see if he could get her attention. He needed supplies badly. He had to get back to the line and couldn't hang around the aid station for too long. Doc tried once more to get the nurse’s attention but still had no luck. He glanced over the area hoping there wasn't another nurse too busy tending a wounded soldier to help him. His eyes skimmed over many faces, several times, until his eyes transfixed on the same nurse who came up not too long ago. The serious expression on his face softened into a smile. He kept gazing at her from where he stood, completely forgetting why he had come to the aid station in the first place.

She was young, perhaps in her late teens to early twenties but beautiful without a doubt. Her hair was tied back into the same blue headscarf like Renée’s, a couple strands of dark hair sneaking out from underneath it, framing her fair face. She wore a light grey dress with a white apron covering it. The nurse looked up from the wounded man she was checking on, catching a glimpse of Doc's staring. She smiled briefly as he tried to get himself out of his thoughts. The nurse stood up as she made her way over to him.

“Are you looking for something?” she said. The nurse’s voice was sweet and friendly. Doc was about to open his mouth to speak, except he couldn’t form any words. He felt his cheeks tinting a light shade of pink. He tried using his eyes to communicate, only to bring himself out of his personal thinking seeing how crowded the aid station was becoming with masses of wounded soldiers.

“Hey, what’s going on here? Why ain’t these men evacuated?” he said. 

“We can’t evacuate,” said another medic. “We’re cut off. This is as far as it goes.” Doc watched the nurse who caught his eye approach Skinny Sisk, as she and another nurse tried to make him feel comfortable. Skinny took a sip of water as he looked dreamily at the nurses surrounding him.

“I’m in heaven, Doc,” he said with glee. Doc had to hide his laughter behind his fist, only making his blushing worse. He wanted to talk to the nurse with the darker hair, except he couldn’t find the right words. He cleared his throat to get her attention until he found his voice.

“Nurse.” The young nurse motioned for Doc to follow her.

“This way,” she said. “Tell me whatcha need.” The nurse began walking, taking long strides, despite her petite stature. Doc soon remembered the reason why he came to the aid station.

“I need morphine. I need bandages. Whatever you got,” said Doc. “We got nothing.”

“Okay,” said the nurse. “I can give you a little, but not a lot.” The nurse took out a cardboard box with some supplies already in it. She placed a couple rolls of white material into the box before handing it over to Doc. “You can have this today. It’ll do you some good.”

“You got plasma?” said Doc. He looked through the box of supplies to double check making sure he didn’t look over anything too fast.

“A little,” replied the nurse. She grabbed a bottle with clear liquid inside of it, a long skinny tube attached at the end with a silver needle. She placed the bottle carefully into the box, she trying not to smile realizing how handsome Doc was up close. “You a surgeon?”

“No,” he replied still trying to stay serious, although it wasn’t working. “We don’t got no surgeon.” The nurse smiled gently, making it harder for Doc to try and stay focused on his task at hand. She had the prettiest smile he had ever seen on anybody: a warm and bright smile that could bring life into a sad room. Doc continued going through his box of supplies, sometimes looking up at the nurse, a small smile forming on his face as he took out one of the rolls of white material, his smile soon changing to curiosity.

“What’s this?” he said holding up the roll.

“Took those from the bed,” said the nurse. 

“What, sheets?” said Doc still confused. 

“Yes,” said the nurse. “For bandages.” Doc tucked the roll of sheets back into the box, a little embarrassed except he didn’t want the nurse to know. 

“Okay,” he said. _“Merci.”_ The nurse gave him another smile as she started walking towards another area of the aid station. Doc felt bad that he didn't speak with her enough to try and get to know her better. The further away she got, the more time he was wasting in not talking to her. He had to act fast. Doc quickened his step to catch up with her. He needed to make a move.

 _“Comment vous appelez-vous?”_ The nurse turned her head towards Doc's direction and smiled.

“My name is Rachel,” she said. “What's yours?”

“I’m Gene,” said Doc trying to keep his cool. “Eugene Roe.”

“ _Enchantée,_ Eugene,” said Rachel smiling. Doc was surprised at how authentic her French sounded. He became more attracted to her because she knew his second language.

“You speak French?” said Doc impressed. Rachel nodded her head as she kept walking.

“Took it for five years,” she said. “Started when I was in 8th grade, continued all four years of high school.” Doc was even more impressed knowing she was able to remember all of that from several years ago.

“Well, you speak it very well,” said Doc smiling. 

“Thank you,” said Rachel. She tucked some of her hair behind her ear, hoping her arm would hide her blush. “Where are you from?”

“Louisiana. Half-Cajun,” said Doc.

“Where specifically in Louisiana?” said Rachel. She smoothed the front of her apron as she picked up a handful of used bandages.

 _“_ Bayou Chene,” said Doc. “ _Et toi tu viens d’où?”_

“Boston, Massachusetts,” said Rachel smiling gently. Doc wished he didn't have to go back to the line. He was enjoying talking to Rachel and wanted to stay with her for hours, his nervous feeling leaving as he felt himself becoming more confident. He wanted to tell her so many things: how beautiful she is, if he could get into contact with her, to name a couple. But, he knew he would be putting the others at risk if he didn't come back. Spina was there, except one medic could only do so much by himself. Two sets of hands or multiple were better than one. Even Rachel wanted to keep talking to Doc. The two exchanged glances at one another as Doc went back outside.

“Can you get me back to the line?” said Doc as he approached a Jeep.

“Sure,” said the jeep driver. He took the box from Doc and placed it on the back of the jeep. Doc scooped up a pair of boots from the rubble. Rachel came out of the aid station hoping Doc didn't leave for she wanted to give him something. She caught sight of the handsome medic as he kept walking towards the jeep.

“Eugene!” she called. Doc turned around as Rachel tossed him a small object: a chocolate bar wrapped in silver foil with the sides perfectly tucked in with no creases to be seen. Doc caught the chocolate bar with one hand, his other hand supporting the boots. He looked up at Rachel, that gorgeous smile made his heart skip and beat a little faster. _“Chocolat. Pour vous._ Hope to see you around again, soldier boy.”

Doc smiled at Rachel as he turned on his heel to head back to the line. Once his back was turned, Rachel bit her lower lip, trying to hide her smile, hoping Renée or the other nurses wouldn't notice. As she started heading back inside of the aid station, she could still hear the soft-spoken voice of Eugene Roe echoing in her mind, making her smile more.

Doc was about to place the chocolate bar into his pocket when his fingers ran over something that was taped to it; a slip of paper that was folded over. He placed the supplies onto the back of the jeep as he took the paper off carefully. Doc flipped the second half upwards to reveal a short note written in cursive: I wish we weren't fighting a war so I could keep talking to you. I like you, Eugene. Write to me when you can. -Rachel

Doc read over the note several times and smiled towards the ground and blushed. Even her handwriting was pretty! He had to suppress a chuckle as he glanced back over to the aid station dreamily, the pretty smile still resonating in his mind. 

_She’s beautiful!_ He thought to himself. _I gotta write to her! What do I say to her though? That smile! Oh that smile! It really does make a difference in the mood setting._ Doc felt as if thousands of tiny butterflies were dancing in his stomach as he tried to think of what to write as the jeep drove back to the line.

***

**19 December 1944: Ardennes Forest: The Bois Jacques: 26 miles from Bastogne, Belgium**

The soldiers in Easy circled around a priest in the middle of the forest. Snow began falling in fluffy snowflakes as the others popped their collars to keep warm. Some shoved their hands under their armpits for the extra warmth.

“Fight well for your God and your country. God bless you all. Stay safe,” said the priest. The sermon was finished as the soldiers dispersed, forming in a large clump as they began their trek through the forest.

“That’s it, guys,” said Muck. “Nothing more to worry about. We gonna die now, we gonna die in a state of grace. Isn’t that right, Babe?”

The jeep came back to the line as Doc tried to hide his smile on his face. He tucked his note back inside of his pocket for safekeeping. He’d only write to her once he was truly alone, for the other soldiers would grow extremely nosy and suspicious, especially Easy’s bearer of good spirits and jokes, George Luz. A friendly soldier who always had a smile on his scruffy face, Luz was the master of impersonating other people, most times it was the other COs in Easy. Wherever he was, he always had a cigarette hanging from his mouth.

Doc decided he’d talk to Spina about Rachel, knowing he wouldn’t go blabbing to the others . He got out on the passenger side, the jeep driver handing him his box as Doc draped the boots around his neck. Spina turned around when he heard the sound of his friend’s boots crunching on the snow.

“Hey, Spina!” said Doc brightly. 

“Hey, Gene!” said Spina. “I take it your run to Bastogne was a success?”

“Yes it was,” said Doc. “This stuff should hold us over for now.” He looked up at the group of soldiers heading further into the forest. What’s happening here?”

“Battalion wants a reconnaissance patrol,” said Spina. “Kraut-hunting.” Doc looked over at the small group of soldiers again before looking back over at Spina. 

“Alright, I’ll go,” said Doc. He handed the large box over to Spina. He took the boots off around his neck and placed them on top of the other supplies. “Take these. Give the boots to Joe Toye. Tell him they’re a size nine.”

“Peacock’s leading, right?” said Luz. Despite being stuck in the freezing cold, Luz’s brown eyes still shown with good spirits. 

“Right,” said another soldier who was much taller than Luz. He had dark brown scruff on his face and over eager brown eyes, the kind that would light up at the sight of a German Luger. Whenever he smiled, he had a tooth missing.

“Great. That asshole couldn’t find a snowball in a blizzard,” said Luz sarcastically. 

“Sarge.” said Julian. He stepped forward to Martin.

“Yeah, Julian?” said Martin. The young replacement held his confidence and his shoulders back and down.

“Let me be the lead scout,” he said. 

“Back in line, Private,” said Martin. Julian stepped back in line a bit disappointed but didn’t talk back.

“That’s it. Let’s move out!” said Peacock. 

“Tactical columns, gentlemen,” said Martin. Doc was about to join the group of soldiers except Martin stopped him with his hand against his chest. “Doc, Doc, it’s a combat patrol. Why don’t you stay back and keep your ass out of trouble?” Doc didn’t like the idea of the soldiers leaving without somebody to patch them up, however, the rate that the snow was falling at would definitely make it more difficult if multiple men got hit at once. Doc simply nodded his head for he knew Martin was right.

“Yes, sergeant,” said Doc. 

“Yeah,” said Martin. He knew how good Doc was at his job, sometimes going out in the middle of the fire to provide the best care he could give. However, something told him that it’d be too risky to let their best medic come with them on the patrol. Martin quickly regrouped with the other soldiers, leaving Doc by himself. 

It was just like training for the war at Toccoa. The infantrymen would practice drills with firearms, whereas he would be elsewhere brushing up on what to check first of a man was wounded. Doc didn’t like to stay behind, except he had to obey orders.

 _Maybe I can start that letter to Rachel_ he thought.

The patrol came to a clearing in the woods with large fallen logs. The snow kept getting heavier, becoming a huge disadvantage for the soldiers if they wanted to try to make contact with the Germans. Martin and Julian stayed behind the fallen logs to see if the coast was clear.

“Go,” whispered Martin. Julian crept up slowly out into the open forest keeping his gun low to the ground.

“ _Feuer!”_ called a German soldier in the distance. Within a few short seconds, several rounds of gunfire started going off.

“Get down! Get down!” cried Martin. Julian turned around to face his platoon leader to ask him why, a bullet struck the boy right through his neck. Julian fell to the ground like a tree as he clutched his bleeding neck. Martin was too stunned to move out to help him. “Shit.” He returned fire on the Germans as Julian writhed on the ground, choking on his own blood.

Martin took cover behind a skinny tree before he could get hit. “Bull! Christenson!” He ducked behind the fallen logs keeping his weapon up. “Up on line!” Martin waited for a few seconds as the Germans began reloading their weapons, giving him more time to fire back at them.

Doc sat under a tree, growing impatient as to what was going on. He tried penning a letter to Rachel, except his thoughts were too preoccupied with the sounds of gunfire in the distance. He took a cigarette from his pocket and lit it to try to let the anxiousness wear off, except he didn’t smoke it. He held the cigarette in between his fingers, letting the ashes burn to the ground.

“Johnny!” cried Christenson. The rest of the soldiers entered through the trees and set up their positions as the gunfire continued.

“We got a man down!” said Martin. He turned quickly and shot back at the Germans, then pulled back behind the logs.

“What have we got?” called Bull.

“Kid’s down; Julian,” said Martin trying to stay calm in the current situation. Christenson and Bull looked to where Julian was in trouble. Julian extended his hand out to the three soldiers, his youthful eyes asking for help.

“We gotta make a move!” cried Bull. 

“I can get him, sarge!” said Babe. Bull, Babe and Martin ducked their heads as bullets bounced off of their helmets.

“Suppressing fire!” called Martin

“Suppressing fire!” called Bull. Babe crawled towards the tree. He was close enough to grab his foxhole mate but how he was going to grab him and take him out of the mess was a different story.

“One man down. Easy.” said Luz into his radio.

“Covering fire!” yelled Martin. 

“Hold them down!” called Bull. Babe moved another inch forward, ducking his head into the cold snow avoiding several bullets. 

“Easy CP, I have one man down,” said Luz. Babe curled himself up against the tree, waiting a few seconds before looking over at his foxhole mate again. 

“Okay, stay there. Don’t move! Stop moving or they’ll keep shooting!” called Babe. Julian tried reaching for his friend, Babe wanting to run out towards him and grab him, except he couldn’t find a spot where it was safe. He was running out of options and time.

Doc continued to sit by the tree, growing more impatient. He crossed his arms over each other and continued watching the line.

 _I should’ve gone with them_ . _Nobody’s yelling for a medic? The hell’s going on out there? You say you don't need me but I think you do._ Peacock came back to where Doc was sitting. Doc stood up and brushed the snow off the back of his pants, hoping he was going to be needed and soon.

“What’s happening, sir?” said Doc.

“We’re pulling back,” said Peacock,looking a little out of breath. “We made contact. I gotta get to the CP.” Peacock jogged past Doc, leaving the Cajun medic to his own thoughts again. Doc glanced over his shoulder to where the lieutenant left, then turned back towards the sound of gunfire.

_How bad is it over there?_

“Don’t move! Don’t move or they’ll keep firing! Stop moving!” called Babe. “Oh Christ.”

“Heffron!” called Martin.

“Fuck. Sarge, what--”

“Pull back!” called Foley. “We gotta pull back!” 

“Let’s get out of here!” called Bull. Several soldiers started running back away from the gunfire. 

“Let’s go! Let’s go! Let’s go!” called Martin.

“Move!” cried Bull. 

“Go!” called Martin. In a fetal attempt, Babe tried to keep Julian’s focus on him. He could see the light quickly fading in his friend’s eyes as Julian attempted to reach out to Babe one more time.

“Come on, stay with us! Stay with us!” called Babe. “Hold on! Julian! Stay with us! Look at me! Stay with us! Look at me! Hold on!”

“Heffron, move!” called Martin. He started to head back into the forest trying to grab Babe in the process.

“Don’t move, Julian, we’re coming back!” yelled Babe. “We’ll get you out of here, just hold on!” Babe pushed himself up quickly and ran back with his fellow troopers.

“Go! Let’s go!” called Foley. The other soldiers ran back into the clearing where Doc stayed. Nixon entered through the clearing as the gunfire continued.

“What’s going on?” said Nixon.

“They got Julian!” said Martin.

“He’s still alive!” said Babe trying to convince himself. 

“We don’t know that!” said Martin. Babe wanted to run back into the firefight to pull Julian out of there before the Krauts could put another bullet through him. “We gotta go get him, sir!”

“Did you hit their OP or their line?” called Nixon.

“Their line, sir!” called Martin.

“We gotta go back to get Julian out of there!” cried Babe. 

“No. Fall back!” called Nixon.

***

The adrenaline from the patrol had finally died down after several minutes. The soldiers sat in a circle, somewhat still shaken up by the recent attack. However, no one was more upset or shaken than Babe. He had lost his best friend to German guns, all because Doc wasn’t there to help. He glanced over his shoulder at the medic sitting by the tree, the usual behavior of sitting by himself. Doc glanced up slightly, feeling Babe’s hurt and dirty gaze on him. Doc felt bad he wasn’t there when the soldiers really needed him for that.

Doc turned his gaze back towards his satchel on the ground as he kept his hands in his pockets. His fingers brushed over the smooth silver foil of the chocolate bar Rachel had given him. He took it out of his pocket and looked at it. It was almost like he could see her pretty smile reflecting back at him. Doc smiled to himself and ran his thumbs over the perfectly folded covering. He brought the bar up to his nose, taking in the sweet chocolatey scent, wondering if he was ever going to see that pretty girl again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations for the French:  
> Avez-vous besoin de mon aide pour quoi que ce soit?: Do you need my help with anything?  
> Merci: Thank you  
> Comment vous-appelez vous?: What is your name?  
> Enchantée: Enchanted to meet you  
> Et toi tu viens d'où?: What about you, Where do you come from?  
> Chocolat. Pour Vous: Chocolate. For you.


	4. 19 December 1944: Ardennes Forest: The Bois Jacques: 26 miles from Bastogne, Belgium

Doc went for a walk in the Ardennes later that same evening. He tried to keep his mind occupied with finding Babe Heffron and checking in on the other soldiers. However, no matter how hard he tried, he still kept thinking of Rachel _._ He felt guilty for not writing to her as much as he wanted, however he had to do his job first before he could tend to personal affairs. Just thinking about her made his heart flutter.

_Rachel_ . _What a lovely name_ , he thought with a smile. _I haven’t met too many Rachels. Wonder what she’s up to now._

Suddenly, his thoughts of Rachel were disrupted when he thought he had found Babe. Doc got closer to the outline of the soldier, seeing who it was. “Heffron.” To Doc’s dismay, it wasn’t Heffron. Joe Toye was sitting on the edge of his foxhole, unhappy and uncomfortable about something.

“Toye. What are you doing out here?”

“Thanks for the boots, Doc,” said Toye. “Doing fine.” His tone of voice said he was fine, however, his facial expression read otherwise. Doc crouched next to Toye so they were on equal levels.

“Are you still having trouble with your feet?” said Doc. Toye nodded his head and looked even more sullen. “Show me. Let me see it.” Toye lifted one of his feet out of his foxhole and showed Doc. He touched it carefully as Toye winced slightly. “It’s trench foot, Toye. If it turns gangrene, you could lose it.”

“I ain’t coming off the line, Doc,” said Toye. He placed his foot back down into the hole and looked at his yellowed feet. 

“Well, you gotta stay dry,” instructed Doc. “Massage your feet. Change socks everyday and dry the wet ones around your neck.”

“Trying,” said Toye. Doc gave him a look that read _Don’t lie to me._

“Do it.”

“I’m working on it,” said Toye. Doc nodded his head and pat Toye on the back of his shoulder and stood up. 

“Oh, have you seen Heffron?” asked Doc.

“No. Why?” said Toye with suspicion.

“He ain’t in his hole,” said Doc. He turned on his heel and went to another area of the Ardennes. Toye shook his head as he wrung out his wet socks.

“Fuck.”

Doc continued making his way to a clearing that wasn’t littered with foxholes. The moon hid behind large pine trees, making the atmosphere colder and lonely until a set of bushes rustled loudly. Doc froze in his tracks, his hand sliding to the handle of his shovel. His fingers curled around it tightly. He kept his breath steady as the rustling got louder and closer. He was about to unhook his shovel from his belt, however his tense grip eased up when it wasn't a Kraut that emerged. Instead, it was the same face he was just thinking about; the same face who made his heart skip a beat and his cheeks flush.

“Rachel?” whispered Doc. Rachel stepped out from the bushes, her hands in her pockets of her coat as she tried to block out the cold. She turned around upon her name being called.

“Eugene?” she whispered back. The two met in the middle, both equally confused but at the same time happy to see each other again.

“What are you doing out here?”said Doc.

“Giving myself space from the aid station,” said Rachel. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”

“Looking for a soldier named Edward Heffron,” said Doc. He felt his heart beating rapidly and his hands getting clammy. This was the first time he was able to speak freely to her without any eyes watching. He cleared his throat and wiped his hands on his pants. “How are things at the aid station?”

“It’s alright,” said Rachel nonchalantly. “I swear it gets more crowded in there every day. How are things with you out here?” Doc shrugged his shoulders, letting them stay up to his ears for a bit.

“Could be better, could be worse,” he replied. “I’m sorry I haven’t been writing you as much as I’ve wanted, Rachel.” 

Rachel took her hands out of her coat pockets and smiled. She rubbed her hands together to get the blood circulation moving again. She smiled sweetly towards the ground. 

“I understand. Your job’s tough,” she said. Doc’s lips curved upwards into a modest smile, causing his cheeks to flush more. “Well, whilst I’m here, do you need anymore supplies?” Doc almost forgot how to speak. His eyes widened upon the realization that this was the longest conversation he was having with this beautiful girl, hoping they could talk about something else other than supplies and war.

“Uh, y-yeah!” he stuttered. He rubbed the back of his neck and cleared his throat. “I mean, yeah. I do.”

“What do you need?” said Rachel trying not to chuckle.

“Morphine,” said Doc. “I asked the others, ‘cept they got nothing.” Rachel checked her pockets a couple of times.

“I guess it's a good thing you ran into me out here.” She reached her hand into her apron pocket and took out a small unused morphine syrette. Doc looked at the syrette like he had discovered a new scientific discovery. His supplies was starting to dwindle again, except this syrette was better than nothing. “I forgot I had this in my pocket. Keep it. You need it more than I do.”Doc smiled in the faint light from the moon, praying his blush wasn’t too noticeable.

“Thank you,” he replied. He placed the syrette inside of his satchel. “I guess another question I have is how’d you get here? It's a pretty far walk from Bastogne to here.” Rachel stuck her hands back inside of her pockets, letting out a chilled breath.

“I took a jeep,” said Rachel. “I couldn't risk walking, unless if I wanted to be questioned or taken prisoner by any Krauts. Jeep stopped about halfway. Told him I could walk from here. I needed the exercise.” She tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and smiled. “Plus, I wanted to see you again. I like talking to you.” Doc felt his cheeks turn scarlet as an innocent smile touched his lips. He scratched the back of his neck and looked down towards the ground.

“Well, I’m glad you're here,” said Doc. “I could use a little company.”

“Where are you headed?” said Rachel. She held her hands under her stomach like she was holding a basket.

“Nowhere, really,” said Doc. “Thought I’d find Heffron out here, but I guess I walked further than I wanted to.”

“Good to clear your head every now and then,” said Rachel smiling. 

“Yeah, especially in a place like this,” chuckled Doc. He shuffled his foot and rubbed the back of his neck again, the blush still tinting his cheeks. “Listen Rach---you uh--you ain’t heading back to that jeep anytime soon, are you?” Rachel looked over her shoulder and crossed her arms in front of her, letting out a discontent sigh.

“I probably should,” said Rachel.

_Damnit!_ Thought Doc. 

Rachel started to button the front of her coat. “Renée will never let me hear the end of it if she sees I’ve gone missing.” Her lips curved into a coy smile. “Why? You wanna walk with me?”

“Yeah!” blurted Doc with a little too much enthusiasm. He cleared his throat, attempting to keep his cool. “Uh, yeah. Y’know cause--it’s dark and---war---a pretty girl walking alone at night--stuff like that---I don't want anything bad to happen to you--and cause I really--” Without thinking, Rachel placed a gentle kiss on his cheek causing Doc to blush more. He let out a soft chuckle and continued rubbing the back of his neck.

“You’re cute when you ramble”she said with a gentle smile. “Alright. You may escort me back to the jeep if it’ll make you feel better about my safety, good gentleman. Gives us more time to talk and get to know each other.” Doc felt his heart flutter and his cheeks burn more. It had been so long since a girl thought he was cute, he almost forgot how to breathe. He held back a chuckle as he hooked his arm through Rachel’s.

Doc and Rachel continued walking through the dark forest staying close to each other. Doc was more than happy Rachel found her way to where he was stationed. Upon their first meeting, he’s been more smiley than ever, even though the other soldiers in Easy don't know the reason for his happiness. 

“You weren't trained as a doctor?” said Rachel astonished.

“That’s right,” said Doc. “I had no prior medical experience before I signed up. Being an army medic is as close to being a real doctor I’m gonna get.”

“How did you end up getting this position?” said Rachel.

“They needed a medic badly,” said Doc. “I kept working hard to join the paratroopers, even after a lot of people thought I couldn't do it.”

“You sound a lot like me with your work ethic, Eugene,” said Rachel.

“Really?” said Doc smiling. 

“Mmhmm,” said Rachel. “I know what it's like to have people tell me I can't do what I put my heart and mind to. Those people only want to make me work harder towards my goal.”

“That's a good attitude to have about anything,” chuckled Doc. “What about you, Rachel? How did you end up becoming a nurse for the war?”

“Same as you,” said Rachel. “I volunteered. Actually, it was my mom's idea. She always thought I’d make a good nurse.”

“She's certainly right,” said Doc smiling. “You're a brave girl, Rachel.” She smiled towards the ground and tucked another strand of hair behind her ear. Doc stuck his hands into his pockets. His gaze turned more into a longing stare. His lips curled into a soft smile. Even in the horrors of war, there was still beauty that could be found. Doc felt his cheeks dust a light shade of pink, whether it was from blushing or the cold, he didn’t know. He kept staring at Rachel, becoming more smitten with her. Rachel brought her gaze back up to Doc’s. He tried to look away like he didn’t notice at first, praying Rachel didn’t see the widespread blush growing on his cheeks.

“What?” said Rachel softly. Doc rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, his cheeks scarlet as he tried keeping himself together, pretending to look up at the night sky.

“Nothing,” said Doc. “I uh--I got lost in my own thoughts for a second.” He facepalmed himself mentally, hoping it would be convincing enough for Rachel to believe. 

_Smooth, Eugene. Real smooth. You’re making a great impression!_ He thought sarcastically. _Just say it. Go on. Say it. Why am I not saying it? Do I know how to say it? “Rachel, you’re beautiful!” Three simple words followed by “I like you. Would you like to go out with me sometime?” How hard can that be? She thinks I’m cute!_ Before Doc could form his thoughts into words, the two approached the area where the jeep was parked. 

“Guess this is where we part,” said Rachel. She looked towards the vehicle then back to Doc. She took her hands out of her coat pockets and smoothed the front of her dress. “Thank you for walking me back.”

“Thank you for the extra syrette,” said Doc smiling. “I hope you have a safe ride back to the aid station.” Rachel smiled gently at him as light snowflakes fell from the sky.

“Take care of yourself out there, soldier boy,” she said. She was close to stepping back onto the jeep to take her seat next to the driver. 

_Hurry, Gene. You’re running out of time! Say something goddamnit! It’s now or never!_

“Hey, Rachel?” said Doc. Rachel stepped down from the jeep and turned back to face the Cajun medic. 

“Yes, Eugene?” Doc took a deep breath and rubbed his hands together. He took a moment to find his voice, ignoring the fact his heart was racing and his stomach churning itself into knots. Doc took another deep breath to calm his nerves. He dropped his hands to his sides as he stepped closer to Rachel. She didn’t pull away once she realized how close Doc was to her.

“I expect you probably hear this often but, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” In the pale moonlight Rachel's face changed from disbelief to marvel. Her eyes illuminated under the sliver of white, her cheeks growing warmer.

“I do hear it,” she said softly. Her countenance changed to a soft smile. “But not sincerely.” Doc’s eyes widened before he got himself out of his head. He cleared his throat and kept his confident stature.

“Well, the other soldiers don’t know how to say it right,” said Doc with a gentle smile. He reached into his pocket and took out a blank sheet of paper and a pencil and started to write. Doc placed the paper in one of her hands gently when he finished. He curled her fingers gently around the paper, he never letting go of her delicate hand, the blush going away slightly and feeling more confident.

“So you’ll be able to find me, easier” said Doc, the smile never falling from his lips. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and kissed her cheek gently. “Write to me when you can, Rachel. I like you too.” Rachel smiled towards the ground, her heart soaring like a bird in the sky only causing her to blush more. 

“I’ll see you around, Eugene,” she said. “If you need more supplies, you know where to find me.” Rachel boarded the Jeep and took her seat next to the driver. “You can expect to receive a letter from me soon.” She crossed her heart as she adjusted herself so she was comfortable. The driver started the engine soon beginning to pull away. Rachel waved to Doc as the jeep drove out of sight, leaving Doc by himself. He waved back to her, the smile never leaving his face. He shoved his hands into his pockets as he began to walk back.

Doc shrugged his shoulders up to his ears still wondering where Babe could be hiding. He didn’t have to look very far for he heard soft cries coming from a foxhole that was covered by a tarp. Doc approached the foxhole and lifted the tarp and slid in next to the two soldiers. Babe’s eyes were red from tears he had been shedding. Spina was trying to comfort him, holding him like a father would with a small child.

“Got you.” said Doc gently. Babe didn’t say anything. His eyes were glassy as more tears fell, dripping off of his pale cheeks like a melting icicle. “Heffron.” Doc reached into his satchel and took out the chocolate bar Rachel gave him. He opened the wrapping gently and held it in front of him. “Edward.”

Babe looked at the chocolate bar like it was a foreign object. Tentatively, he took the chocolate from Doc’s hand but was still hesitant to nibble on it. “Eat it.” Babe slowly brought the chocolate bar up to his mouth, taking a small bite of it, feeling some more comfort as he swallowed. 

“Good. Alright…” said Doc. Babe sniffed back his tears as he rested his head against Spina’s shoulder.

“I promised him if he got hit, I’d get his stuff and bring it to his mom. You know?” said Babe distraught. “Now the fucking Krauts’ll strip him.”

“Hey, no, it’s okay--”

“It’s not! It’s not okay,” sniffled Babe. “I should have got to him.” Babe closed his eyes for a second before taking another small bite of the chocolate bar. Doc rested himself comfortably against Babe’s shoulder. He licked his chapped lips, surprised how Rachel didn’t complain about them not being soft when he kissed her. Doc closed his eyes briefly and let out a sigh as the gunfire echoed in the distance.

“Hey, what do you call those people again?” said Spina. “Those Cajun healers?” Doc smiled a soft smile as he felt his eyelids droop slightly.

“Traiteurs,” said Doc. “You know, my grandma was a traiteuse.”

“Your grandmother?” said Spina astonished. “No shit?” Doc looked at his friend sideways and smiled gently.

“Uh huh, she was,” said Doc. “Laid her hands on people and cured them. Took away sickness, cancer, you name it.”

“Your grandma did that? You’re shitting me,” said Spina still in disbelief. 

“I remember she used to pray a lot,” said Doc. Babe was slowly beginning to fade into a blissful sleep.

“Yeah, I guess she had to,” said Spina. It didn’t take long for Babe to fall asleep for he was immediately out like a light against Spina, like a small child.

“Talked to God about the pain she pulled out,” said Doc. “Asked him to carry it away. That’s what she did.”

“I’m still trying to figure out why they picked me for a medic,” said Spina perplexed. “God knows. Snap of a finger and just like that, you’re a medic. I’ve had enough playing doctor. Hey, how about you?” Doc didn’t answer Spina. He stared ahead, thinking about Rachel. He hoped she made it back safely to the aid station. He liked that girl too much. She wasn’t like most girls Doc met. She was sweet, caring, modest and intelligent. That was another thing Doc liked about her personality: she was genuine.

“Gene?” said Spina a little louder for Doc to hear.

“You say something, Ralph?” said Doc bringing himself back to reality. Spina raised one of his eyebrows in confusion.

“You feeling alright, Gene?” said Spina. “You’ve been out of it for the past couple of days.” Doc let out a small sigh as a smile curved over his lips.

“Yeah, I’m alright,” he said. Doc licked his chapped lips again, this time the smile growing bigger as he suppressed a chuckle. 

“Alright. Out with it,” said Spina smirking. “What’s going on? Is there a girl I don’t know about?” Doc was about to respond, except his facial expression gave it away. He felt blush dusting his cheeks as he smiled towards the ground.

“Yes there is,” said Doc, trying to keep his blush under control.

“Isn’t it that girl you were supposed to be engaged to before the war started?” said Spina. Doc shook his head, cringing at the thought. He hadn’t thought of her in months and for good reason.

“No,” said Doc. “She’s out of the picture. There’s this girl I met when I was at the aid station to get supplies.” Doc smiled up at the tarp, thinking about their conversation they just had. “Her name’s Rachel.”

“Rachel, huh?” said Spina. “What’s she like?” Doc wrapped the blanket around himself carefully not to wake up Babe.

“She’s beautiful,” said Doc. He continued staring up at the tarp, drawing a mental image in his head. “Pale skin, almost like a porcelain doll’s. Kind brown eyes. She’s got the prettiest smile I’ve ever seen on a girl.”

“Sounds like a real catch,” said Spina smiling. “She give you her contact information?”

“Yes she did,” said Doc. “Except, I dunno what to write to her. I really like her, Spina. I don’t wanna screw this up.” Spina adjusted himself carefully so he wouldn’t wake up Babe.

“Well, here’s what I’d do: keep it simple but it should get your point across,” said Spina. “It’s what I do whenever I write to my girl. Stuff included: ask her what she’s been doing, tell her what you and the rest of us have been up to, those kinds of things! You wanna keep her interested, but not reveal too much. Girls like a little mystery. That way, when you do meet again, you’ll have more to talk about.”

Doc let the advice sit for a moment. He nodded his head in understanding, his smile transformed into a grin as the wheels began turning in his head. “That look on your face tells me you’ve got an idea as to how you’re gonna start this letter!”

“Yes I do!” said Doc overjoyed. He reached into his satchel and took out a piece of paper and a pencil as he began writing. 

“Great!” said Spina with a yawn. “You’ll have to--tell me--if she writes---” before he could finish his sentence, Spina closed his eyes, soon falling into a heavy sleep, leaving Doc the only one who was awake in the foxhole. 

_December 19th, 1944_

_Dear Rachel,_

_Hope everything is well with you at the aid station. Thank you again for the extra syrette. Getting my hands even on a little supplies goes a long way for sure. Easy’s still knee deep in snow out here in the forest. It was nice to see you again and to just talk. You’re very interesting to talk and listen to! I wish we weren’t fighting a war either just so I could see you more often. I really like you. Truly. I want to get to know you better._

_I hope our paths will cross again and soon._

_Sincerely yours,_

_Gene Roe_

Doc looked over his letter several times in the dim light. He smiled to himself as he folded the letter and tucked it inside of his uniform close to his heart. Short. Sweet and Simple. He lifted the tarp quietly to find a soldier who could deliver the letter for him, careful not to wake any of the others if they had finally gotten the first blissful sleep in what seemed like forever.

***

Rachel sat near one of the stained glass windows of the church. The aid station was even more dreary without the sunlight coming through. Her only form of comfort was the small candle she was using as a light to look at her paper. She rested her knuckles against her cheek and tapped her pencil against her lips. Nothing. She had been staring at the same blank sheet of paper for several minutes but still no words had formed from her hand. She wanted to write something to Eugene, except she felt butterflies dancing in her stomach meaning one thing: she really likes him.

Never before had she written a love letter to a boy who likes her back. She was never lucky in landing any dates at all. A lot of the soldiers that came into the aid station would flirt with her or come off too strong in attempts to make small talk. It was her sweet nature that did them in. Rachel turned down several requests for dates,regardless of how good-looking they were, although all the soldiers said how much they love and appreciate having her in the aid station and would compliment her smile. 

Eugene Roe, however was a different man. Quiet and respectable, he gave compliments when necessary and didn’t do it excessively, like the other soldiers. Rachel smiled to herself as she rested her hand against her cheek where Doc had kissed her. She tried not to giggle as she remembered the slight prickle of his stubble brushing and tickling her cheek. She bit her lower lip playfully in attempts to not swoon thinking about his soft-spoken Cajun accent. His name echoed in her mind. She liked how it sounded.

_Eugene Roe. Eugene Roe. Gene Roe. Gene. Eugene._ She smiled dreamily to herself against the warm candlelight. Her hand had become nonstop but careful with her words, the cursive flowing elegantly across the once blank page with several loops and slants.

Renée was doing her nightly rounds, checking on several wounded soldiers who had fallen asleep, some with their blankets askew. She adjusted them to cover the rest of the soldiers, tucking them in and sometimes saying a soft prayer in hopes they would recover quickly. She glanced at Rachel sitting by the candle, finding it a bit strange for her being up so late. Renée stood up and approached her fellow nurse. She touched Rachel’s back gently, making Rachel jump in the process.

“Well this is a sight to see,” said Renée gently. “What are you doing up so late, Rachel?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” said Rachel. She placed her pencil across her paper and turned towards her friend. Renée peered to the letter Rachel was writing and smirked.

“Who’s Eugene?” she said as she continued to eye the letter. Rachel bit her lower lip again in an attempt to hide her smile. A light blush dusted her cheeks as she tried her best not to giggle. She swallowed it before clearing her throat. She took a deep breath to quickly regain her composure.

“One of the medics who came into the aid station a couple days ago,” said Rachel. “For supplies.” Renée sat next to Rachel, the smirk never left her face. She looked at the letter she had started and read it silently.

“Sounds to me like he’s more than a just a medic,” she said. Renée placed the letter back in front of Rachel. “You like him don’t you?” Rachel fell silent as her cheeks flushed red like a beet, the light of the candle illuminating it, giving Renée more of an opportunity to tease her.

“Only a little,” said Rachel quietly. Renée raised one of her eyebrows and crossed her arms. The smirk seemed to have plastered itself onto her pretty face.

“Rachel, I know you too well, _ma amie_ ,” she said. Rachel tried keeping a straight face but knew it was impossible with her friend’s curious gaze. She nearly let out an innocent giggle as her cheeks continued to turn red, quickly taking another deep breath.

“Alright, I really like Eugene,” said Rachel. “Happy now, little miss nosy?”

“Very much so,” said Renée with a chuckle. “When you said he came in here a couple of days ago, I caught a glimpse of him speaking to you.”

“You weren’t jealous, were you?” said Rachel. Renée shook her head and let out another soft chuckle.

“No. Not at all,” she said gently. “He’s interested in you, Rachel. Did you notice how reluctant he was to leave?”

“Yes I did,” said Rachel chuckling. “I think he almost tripped over something on the way out as he kept looking at me.” She rested her hand against her cheek dreamily thinking about the Cajun medic. “He’s such a gentleman. He isn't brash like the other soldiers, nor does he make obscene comments. If only I could get more ideas to finish this letter!”

“Why don’t you get some sleep,” said Renée. “If you force the ideas, it’s not going to come any easier. If you’re well rested, you can think better. It’s up to you though.” Rachel looked at her half finished letter. She would be able to sleep better if her letter was finished and on her way to Doc. Her plan was simple: finish the letter and mail it first thing tomorrow morning to him. 

“I’m going to keep writing, Renée,” said Rachel. “I’ll sleep once I feel good about what I’ve written.” Renée nodded her head in understanding. She stood up and smoothed the back of her dress then folded her hands over her stomach neatly.

_“D’accord_ ,” said Renée. “Don’t stay up too too late.” She gave Rachel’s shoulder a friendly squeeze before she continued her rounds, once again leaving Rachel alone, except for the sounds of soldiers sleeping blissfully for once. 

Rachel resumed writing her letter to Doc, the second half flowing much more freely and easier once she took a second to not think about what she wanted to say. Sometimes, she would glance over her shoulder at the soldiers sleeping peacefully. Her eyes stopped at a soldier who had his left leg amputated, feeling severe pity. He was probably a little older than she was, or perhaps a little younger but not by several years. Maybe a former football star, now cursed to give up sports for the rest of his days. She felt terrible for whoever had to write letters to their families, informing them of what had happened to their sons. Her job was to try to make them feel more comfortable and patch them up as best as she could before sending them back to the line or back to the States. 

Rachel hated having to send soldiers back to the line. There was that sinking feeling in her stomach that they were probably going to end up back at the aid station. She always feared she wouldn’t be quick enough to get to a wounded man to help him in time. It’s happened to her before a couple of times: she’d be treating a soldier with a deep wound, thinking she’d come close to saving another man’s life, only to face the sad reality war doesn’t let everyone get out in one piece or alive. She bit down on her lower lip trying to suppress the guilty feelings. Rachel pushed the thoughts out of her mind as she focused on finishing her letter. Her eyes caught the flame of the candle, the melting wax dripping down the side slowly.

The flame made Rachel feel warmer and a little better about her nursing abilities, hoping she wasn’t going to have another man die in her care again. Tomorrow was a new day. She had to remember to keep herself motivated, even when it seemed too difficult to do so. The warm flame reminded her a lot of Doc, particularly his shy, but sweet smile and gentle blue eyes. She stared at it longingly, praying he was taking care of himself and that she’d be able to see him again.

Rachel picked up her pencil after staring at the flame for a few minutes and finished her letter. She tucked it into a small envelope with precision, careful not to form any creases or to rip it. Rachel held the envelope in her hands before bringing it up to her lips, placing a gentle kiss on the envelope for extra luck, hoping it would make it’s way safely to Doc before anything bad could happen to either one of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations for French:  
> Ma amie: My friend  
> D'accord: Alright


	5. 20 December 1944: Ardennes Forest: The Bois Jacques: 26 miles from Bastogne, Belgium

The sun began to peer above the clouds early the next morning. Doc had fallen asleep in the foxhole with Babe and Spina, the three of them huddled together for comfort and warmth; the first good night’s sleep perhaps any of them have gotten upon their first arrival to the Ardennes. Doc heard a voice calling out to him: a female voice, similar to Rachel’s but uncertain if it really was her. The voice sounded too real to be inside of a dream. Doc looked around to see what direction the voice was coming from. He heard a woman scream and cry like she was in pain.

_“Medic! Someone help me!”_ cried the voice. Doc ran through the dark forest, following the sound of the voice, the more distressed it sounded the closer he approached.

_“Rachel?!”_ he called, his voice echoing around him like he was in an empty void. _“Rachel?! Where are you?!”_ The screaming and the crying had stopped as Doc continued to search for the source of the voice. But before Doc could see if it really was Rachel, he jolted himself awake and sat up, wondering if what he heard was real or not. 

Doc turned to see daylight had broken through. Spina and Babe still slept soundly, thankful he didn’t wake them up from the adrenaline rush. He heard a new sound, a whirring of some sorts like it was right on top of where Easy Company was stationed. Doc adjusted his portion of the blanket and draped it over Babe’s free arm quietly. He lifted the tarp into the bright sunlight soon hearing the whirring much better. Doc stood outside of the hole taking a few steps closer, the sound more audible. Plane engines thundered across the Belgian sky above him. Doc turned his head to follow which direction the planes flew, soon followed by cheers from his fellow soldiers. He ran towards the sound of the voices wondering what or why they were celebrating.

The soldiers emerged from the Ardennes waving their weapons and helmets above their heads as red smoke canisters were released from the planes. Doc ran out towards the front with a grateful smile on his face. Finally, air support had arrived for the Screaming Eagles’ offense against the Germans. Suddenly, the soldiers joy was cut short when the planes began firing back at them, causing everyone to find cover with the nearest tree or spot they could find.

“Take cover! Come on, Doc!” called Lipton. The soldiers began shooting at the planes as Doc crouched behind a tree with Lipton, keeping his eye on how many planes were above them. He noticed an insignia on the side of the planes: three white stripes towards the back and a white star inside of a blue circle. Lipton saw the insignia too and stopped firing his gun. “Cease fire! Cease fire, goddamnit!”The planes flew over the soldiers heads and treetops.

“Sergeant, I don’t understand! It was our own planes!” called Doc. 

“Shhh,” said Lipton placing his hand against Doc’s chest to tell him to stay low just in case. “C-47s. They’re bringing supplies.” Lipton’s eyes widened upon realizing why the planes were here. “It’s a drop. It’s a drop. Come on!” He nudged Doc to stand up as he motioned for a soldier to stop running. 

The jeep drove to Bastogne over the cobblestone roads. Several cardboard boxes with parachutes attached to them fell from the sky, tumbling off of roofs or falling with loud thuds into the street as the planes continued to fly overhead. Doc kept his happiness to himself for he was going to see Rachel again, as his heart rate doubled from the nervous butterflies.

_I wonder if she got my letter_ he thought. _If she did, what did she think of it? Did she like it? I should ask her out. Where though? I can’t sneak away from the line! I’ll get in trouble! But I wanna spend more time with Rachel though! I really like her!_ Doc stepped off the back of the jeep and set foot into the aid station with Lipton and the other soldiers.

“Alright, you help the Doc The rest of you, come with me,” said Lipton. The soldiers went with Doc to grab some well-needed supplies. 

Nothing had changed from when he last came, except for how much more crowded it seemed to get. Doc found a couple of boxes with some supplies he needed, his gaze shifting towards one of the windows where he saw Rachel talking to and treating a wounded soldier. Despite the pain the soldier was feeling, Doc noticed the faint smile crossing over the soldier’s lips whenever Rachel spoke.

_She’s a great nurse!_ thought Doc. _I don’t think I’ve seen a man not smile ‘cause of Rachel._ He kept observing as to what she was doing. Rachel lay one of her hands gently on the soldier’s head, saying a soft prayer, or words of comfort, even though Doc couldn’t read what her lips were saying. _Traiteuse. Just like my grandma._

Rachel finished tending to the soldier. She saw Doc’s reflection in the window behind her and smiled as she waved to him. Doc smiled and waved back to her. He straightened his shoulders and walked over to her.

“Hey stranger,” said Rachel. Doc noticed something different about her eyes. They weren’t as bright as before and appeared much sadder, even though she was smiling. “I see you’ve found more supplies.”

“Yeah,” said Doc with a shy smile. “C-47s dropped some good stuff, hopefully.” Rachel smiled towards the ground and pushed a loose strand of hair away from her face. Doc liked it when she did that, causing his cheeks to turn pink.

“I received your letter,” said Rachel.

“Oh good!” said Doc with a bit too much excitement. He cleared his throat and placed the box of supplies next to him. “I mean, great! That’s really great. Whatcha think?” Rachel chuckled softly. She found it extremely cute when Doc tried to play suave.

“It was very sweet,” she said. Without thinking, her skinny fingers brushed against his hand, asking for permission to hold it. “Plus, I want to get to know you better too.” A thousand pounds seemed to have lifted off of Doc’s shoulders when she said that. His shy smile became broader, and interlaced his fingers with her petite ones, his light blush becoming more noticeable. Now was his chance to make another bold move.

“Listen, Rach,” said Doc. “I was wondering if you’d wanna---I dunno---if you’d like to go out on a date with me? I mean---if it’s something of interest to you--no pressure or anything. I just thought---” Rachel chuckled softly and placed a gentle kiss on his stubbly cheek, earning herself a sheepish chuckle from Doc. “I was babbling again wasn’t I?”

“Just a little,” she smiled. “I would love to go out with you sometime, Eugene. What did you have in mind?”

“How’s about dinner?”

“Medic! Someone give us a hand here! Help!” Doc and Rachel looked to see what the cry for help was about. A group of soldiers was carrying a man who was heavily bleeding out, but they weren’t sure where it was coming from.

“ _Ceux qui peuvent marcher, on les met à droite,”_ said Renée. “This one through here. Now!” She led the soldiers into an empty back room with a bit more space to move around and set the soldier on a table. Doc and Rachel quickly followed behind her to see how bad the damage was.

“ _Renée, à quel point est-ce?”_ said Rachel. She looked at the soldier whose eyes were half open and looking more lifeless than ever. Renée unbuttoned the soldier’s uniform to see a large wound. She and Doc pushed the blood that was spilling out of it away as best as they could.

_“C’est l’estomac,”_ replied Renée. _“Il faut de pression. Essaies de trouver l’artère.”_

_“D’accord,”_ replied Doc. “The artery. We gotta find the artery.” Doc reached his hand into the man’s stomach trying to find the loose artery, except his hand quickly became slick with blood as he poked around inside trying to feel for something. Doc grit his teeth together except he was still having difficulty.

_“Je ne la trouve pas!”_ he cried. Rachel stuck her hand inside of the man’s stomach hoping she’d be able to grab the artery. To no avail, Rachel was having just as much difficulty as Doc was. The more she and Doc tried to find the artery, the more blood was spilling from the soldier’s stomach. The soldier began to cough blood as both Doc and Rachel tried their hardest.

“I can’t find it either!” called Rachel. Both Doc and Rachel spent several minutes trying to find the artery, sometimes Renée stepped in to help the two of them if Rachel couldn’t get it. The soldier continued to cough blood over his face as Rachel and Doc kept trying whatever way they could, except the soldier was still dying.

“Anna! Anna!” called Renée. Another nurse entered from the other room. She had dark skin and was about Renée’s age. Quickly, the nurse stuck her hand into the man’s stomach to see if she could help Doc and Rachel. 

_“Je ne la trouve pas!”_ cried Doc again. He was too focused on trying to find the artery he didn’t notice how close Rachel was to his face. The two of them worked as quickly as they could, however the soldier had completely given up the will to live. Doc and Rachel took one last pull, stopping their attempts to help the dead man. Their eyes met each other’s for a moment as Doc slowly stood back up, never taking his eyes off of Rachel. The two were within kissing distance. Neither one wanted to look away until they saw the lifeless body in front of them.

Rachel felt like she was going to burst into tears. It was now becoming a recurring pattern: she thought she was doing a great job, then it all came crashing down on her again when she lost another man. Doc slapped a bloodied rag down against the table, grunting in frustration. He turned his head towards Rachel. Tears cornered her brown eyes. Without saying a word to anybody, she left as tears rolled down her porcelain cheeks.

***

Doc and Renée sat in a couple of chairs in the brisk winter air. The two sat in silence for a moment, Doc sometimes looking over at Rachel to see if she was okay. He folded his hands together and rested his elbows on top of his knees.

“Where does she come from? The black girl,” said Doc.

“The Congo,” said Renée. She smoothed the front of her dress and held her hands in her lap.

“How’d she get here?” said Doc. Renée heaved a gentle sigh as she tucked her hands under her arms for warmth.

“Just like me and Rachel,” she said. “She wanted to help.” Renée reached into her jacket pocket and took out a chocolate bar and offered it to Doc. _“Chocolat?”_ Doc shook his head and looked back up over at Rachel. He wanted to console her, but at the same time didn’t know if she wanted to be spoken to. He didn’t like seeing Rachel so upset. Renée looked at Doc then over at Rachel like she had read his mind.

“She’s a good girl, Eugene,” said Renée. She glanced back over to Rachel. “It breaks my heart when she thinks she’s not good enough at her job.” Doc brought his attention to Renée when that sentence flowed out of her mouth.

“Rachel thinks she ain’t good enough?” said Doc raising one of his eyebrows in disbelief. Renée nodded her head and slid her headscarf off, placing it into her lap.

“She never used to think that way,” said Renée sadly. “Everytime a wounded man came in, she always did her best to take their mind off of the pain. Her smile was a gift. Everyday, I see it less and less.” Renée looked up at Rachel again and heaved a gentle sigh. “I know how she feels. I’d rather work in a butcher’s shop. I’d do anything to see that smile again. I couldn’t bear to see Rachel lose herself.”

Doc felt like a large weight was pressing itself back down onto his shoulders. He knew the same feeling; wanting to help everyone and to make sure the others are doing well. He saw that a lot in Rachel, except there was something else he saw: a girl suffering in silence. Doc was about to stand up and walk over to Rachel until a jeep pulled up to the aid station.

“Nurse! Nurse! We need some help over here!” called a soldier. “Got shrapnel through the stomach.” Renée stood up and approached the jeep leaving Doc by himself.

“How bad is it? Okay get this one in first,” she said. Renée ushered the soldiers into the aid station and followed behind quickly. 

Doc scooped his helmet up off the ground and tucked it under his arm. He carried his satchel and slung it across himself. He saw Rachel on the opposite side, her hair down in loose curls. With the lighting clear and better, Doc thought she had the prettiest head of hair he’d ever seen on a girl. Her hair wasn't perfectly curly, instead it was more of a wave with slight curls on the ends. Doc felt his heart beat faster when he saw her. He made his way back over to her and smiled fully.

“Hey,” he said. Rachel turned around and faced Doc with the same gentle smile, except it didn't seem as warm from the first time. Her hair blowing gently in the wind behind her.

“Hey,” she said. She ran her fingers over her blue headscarf before folding it. She placed it gently into her apron pocket and smoothed her hair.

“You look good with your hair down,” said Doc.

“Thank you,” said Rachel softly. She looked down at her hands. She still had some traces of dried blood on them, specifically under her nails. Doc hadn't taken a good look at her hands until now. They were delicate, but strong. She had long and skinny piano fingers, allowing for nimble movement and healing with a simple touch. She didn’t say much to him but Doc could tell something was off.

“You alright, Rach?” he said in his soothing voice. Rachel shrugged her shoulders and rubbed her arms.

“It's nothing,” she said quietly. The look of concern never left Doc’s face.

“Do you want to talk about it?” said Doc. “I’ll listen.”

Rachel let out a weak chuckle and pinched the bridge of her nose. Her eyes turned glassy as she was trying to stay calm. “This stupid war.” She covered her eyes with her hand and kept her head down. “What happened to me? I used to be good at my job.” Doc placed his hand on top of Rachel's gently. His thumb made gentle circular motions over her knuckle. 

“You're a good nurse, Rachel,” said Doc gently. Rachel let out a soft chuckle as she kept her head down. Tears welled the corners of her eyes, streaming down her face like small waterfalls. She raised her head up to Doc, her eyes glassy as tears dripped off her cheeks and shook her head.

“No. I never want to treat another wounded man again,” she said as she wiped some of her tears away. 

“But your touch calms people,” said Doc gently. “It’s a gift from God.”

“You still believe that?” said Rachel quietly. She lowered her head into her hands as her tears fell to the cold ground and began to cry softly. “It’s not a gift.” Her cries became more prominent as her breath hitched in her throat as she tried to pull herself together. Doc felt his heart shatter. He had experienced his fellow soldiers almost get as emotional as Rachel and try to pull themselves back together quickly. It wasn’t a pretty sight. Doc placed his helmet to the side and approached Rachel. He had never held her close to him before and was a bit hesitant to touch her but he hated seeing someone he cared about deeply so upset. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around her and embraced her, pulling her against his chest for a well needed hug. Her tears rolled off her cheeks, staining his jacket, his awkward feeling of touching her had vanished for she started to calm down a bit. He rested his lips on top of her head and closed his eyes, pressing a gentle kiss on top of her head.

“Yes. I still believe that,” said Doc gently. He pushed some of her hair off of her face he held her cheeks, wiping the tears off with his thumbs. “I understand how difficult treating others can be. But Rach, you are a good nurse. You give the soldiers comfort whenever you walk into the room. I’ve seen it every time I’ve had to get supplies. That’s a real gift.” He played with her hair absentmindedly and felt her crying subside to deep breaths.

“I’m not sure how you guys do it,” sniffed Rachel. “I give you props for trying to hold each other together for so long.” Doc continued holding her cheeks in his hands. He gazed into her beautiful, but war weary eyes.

“Don't give up, Rach,” said Doc gently. “I know it's tough but you’ll get through. Just gotta take it one day at a time.” Rachel rested her cheek against his palm and smiled a sad smile. She closed her eyes and ran her fingers over the outside of his hands, feeling a comfort she was lacking since day one. 

“I’m glad you came into my life when you did, Eugene,” said Rachel softly. Doc moved his hands to the small of her back.

“We're in this together, one way or another,” said Doc smiling gently. Rachel smiled towards the ground modestly, bringing her eyes up to meet Doc's. Without his helmet, she hadn't realized how kind and dark his eyes were. At first glance, she thought his eyes were brown but could see in the light they looked like the ocean at night; tired and overworked but handsome nonetheless. The longer she stared into his eyes, the more it felt like she was swimming in them. His hair was dark, well kept, clean cut and stylish. She felt a sudden urge to run her fingers through his hair and kiss his chapped lips. She didn't want him to release her.

The war didn't seem to matter to her nor Doc in that moment. Both were emotionally deprived, exhausted and yearning for physical comfort. Doc didn’t care that he and Rachel haven’t gone out together yet. They both needed each other to keep them from reaching their breaking points. The two looked into each other’s eyes, waiting for the other to make a move. It had been so long since Doc kissed a girl, he almost forgot how to start it. He moved his face closer to hers slowly, looking at her slightly parted lips. Rachel’s heart started beating faster once she realized what was happening. She closed her eyes moving closer to Doc’s mouth, their noses brushed against each other's, their lips inches away from touching.

Doc placed his pointer finger and thumb under her chin, bringing her face closer and sealed the gap between them with a gentle kiss. The lovers wrapped their arms around each other, neither one of them wanted to go back to focusing on the war, only each other’s presence. Renée poked her head out from the aid station and caught sight of the medic and the nurse kissing.

“ _Rachel!_ _J’ai besoin de ton aide ici!_ ” called Renée. Rachel and Doc pulled away from their kiss gently. Their cheeks turned red as they both sighed a mixture of embarrassed and disappointed.

“Damnit,” said Doc under his breath. He rubbed the back of his neck and shuffled his foot. “I---I should probably get back to the line.” Rachel cleared her throat and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her pale cheeks burning scarlet. 

“Should probably go see what Renée needs help with,” said Rachel disappointed. Rachel kissed Doc on his cheek sweetly. “I’ll write to you, Eugene.” She held both of her arms as she walked away from him. 

Doc wished the war wasn’t happening. He wanted to stay with Rachel and to take her out somewhere nice. He wanted to be alone with her, someplace far away where neither of them would get hurt. Unfortunately, the war continued to show it was a priority before personal affairs. Doc bit the inside of his cheek, hating the war more the longer it dragged out. Doc placed his helmet back onto his head and went back to the line, thinking of a plan that would allow him and Rachel the kind of time together they truly deserved. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations for French:  
> Ceux qui peuvent marcher, on les met à droite: Those who can walk, go to the right.  
>  à quel point est-ce: How bad is it?  
> C’est l’estomac. Il faut de pression. Essaies de trouver l’artère: It's the stomach. It needs pressure. Try to find the artery.  
> Je ne la trouve pas!: I can't find it!  
> J’ai besoin de ton aide ici!: I need your help here!


	6. 23 December 1944: Ardennes Forest: The Bois Jacques: 26 miles from Bastogne, Belgium

Babe, Guarnere and Buck sat out in the cold a few nights later watching the line intently. Snowflakes fell from the dark grey sky gently across the barren field of what used to harbor tall pine trees. The world was at peace for once. The three soldiers shook in the cold trying to keep themselves and their minds preoccupied from the boredom and unsettling feeling the enemy could strike them at any second.

“Now we know how they felt,” said Buck. Babe brought himself out of his prolonged staring, intrigued by the lieutenant’s words.

“What? Who?” he said. His gaze quickly shifted back towards the eerily quiet line.

“The legionnaires,” said Buck. “When they were watching the Huns. Goths, the Visigoths.” Guarnere and Babe exchanged an uncomfortable look with each other. 

“Visigoths? Jesus Christ,” said Guarnere softly. Buck took a second to think of the right word he wanted to say.

“Barbarians,” he said. Babe and Guarnere nodded their heads in understanding. “They came right through here.” Buck raised one of his fingers. He pointed outwards and made a circular motion. “Right through these trees, just sweeping down to burn the shit out of Rome.”

“That’s a hell of a long ride,” said Guarnere. Babe desperately wanted to change the subject to something that wouldn’t make him feel more unsettled than he already was. 

“So, what’s college like, Buck?” said Babe. “You got time to hit the books with cheerleaders running their fingers through your hair?” His lips curved into a cheeky smile, followed by a mischievous chuckle.

“Hell, Babe, I can’t even remember,” said Buck. A loud noise echoed from across the eerie plain, sounding like a tank firing a shell but the noise was too far away the soldiers couldn’t make it out. Suddenly, a grunt came closest to where Buck was sitting. A shadowy figure crawled on their stomach getting closer to the three soldiers. Babe and Guarnere turned around with weapons raised to see who the visitor was. The tensions settled once they recognized who it was.

“Hey, it’s Doc,” said Guarnere catching a breath. The two soldiers lowered their weapons.

“Sergeant. Heffron. Lieutenant.” Doc slid a large blanket from under his arm and handed it to Guarnere. “Wrap up.” He started to crawl backwards back to his own hole. Guarnere unfolded the large blanket, shaking off the flakes.

“Never calls anybody by their nickname,” he said with a hint of bitterness. 

“He once called me Edward,” said Babe. The cheeky and innocent smile formed over his childlike lips again.

“Is that right?” said Guarnere. He spread the blanket out and draped it over his legs for extra warmth.

“Edward? That’s your name?” said Buck, both impressed but unphased.

“Yeah,” said Babe proudly. 

“Funny, you...you don’t look like an Edward,” said Buck softly.

Doc came back to his foxhole and took off his medic satchel. For once, the quiet forest didn’t bother him, especially tonight. Rachel had written to him and hadn’t had a chance to read her letter fully. He took her letter out of his satchel and looked at her handwriting on the envelope. 

_Even her handwriting’s beautiful_ he thought. A gentle smile formed over his face as he thought back to his first kiss he shared with her. He placed his thumb and pointer finger under the flap, careful not to rip the paper that was inside. He unfolded the letter like it was an old artifact, the slightest touch and it could rip as he read the letter silently to himself:

_December 21st, 1944_

_Dear Gene,_

_Hope you’re still doing okay holding the line in the Ardennes. I was glad I got to see you yesterday. Thank you for lifting my spirits. It’s nice knowing that I have somebody who understands the weight I’m carrying. Today, it’s been a little better in treating the wounded. There are still moments where I doubt myself, however on those days, I think of you and how we kissed. If you’re worried about how I felt afterwards, worry no more for I enjoyed it. I couldn’t stop smiling for the rest of the evening! I pray I will see you again and soon. Take care of yourself for me, soldier boy._

_Love always,_

_Rachel_

Doc smiled to himself as he tucked Rachel’s letter safely inside of his jacket. He soon remembered the dream he had a few nights prior, the screams of the illusionary woman haunting him, the smile quickly falling from his handsome face. Doc could still hear the woman’s cries of distress, making him grow restless. He fumbled with his hands trying to shake the horrific dream from his mind, except the piercing screams continued to ring in his ears. Maybe it was just a bad dream, however Doc feared it was something much worse; a warning that Rachel could be in danger and he wouldn’t know it. He held his head in his hands, praying silently that the dream meant nothing and it was just his imagination running rampant.

Spina walked back towards his hole and whistled a cheerful tune to himself. He passed by Doc who was still holding his head in his hands, soon growing more concerned for his best friend’s well being. It was an unsettling sight to see. Spina knew Doc was a quiet person in general, however the way he was hunched over and his blank stare worried him. The South Philly medic approached with care.

“Gene?” said Spina. Doc didn’t answer. He rested his chin on top of his knuckles and continued staring blankly at the ground. Spina sat next to him and shook his shoulder vigorously. “Eugene.” Doc brought himself out of his daze, doing a double take when he saw Spina, his heart nearly leaping out of his chest.

“Jesus Christ, Spina!” he exclaimed. Doc placed a hand over his heart and pushed his helmet up to calm his jittered nerves. “When the hell did you get here?”

“Couple seconds ago,” said Spina, nonchalantly. “Hey, Gene you okay? I saw you with your head down.” Doc inhaled a deep breath and rubbed his eyes.

“Yeah,” he replied. “I’m okay.” Doc held his hands together and slumped forward as the dream still played like a record in his head. Spina dug through his satchel to see if he had any scraps of food he could give. He took out a granola bar and took off the wrappings, breaking the bar in two.

“You look like you need to get something off your chest,” he implored. Doc reluctantly took the second half of the granola bar, questioning how long this had been sitting in the bottom of Spina’s bag. Seeing nothing wrong with it, Doc took a small bite, a few crumbs sticking to his stubbled face. He brushed them off with the palm of his hand. He swallowed before speaking.

“Actually I do,” said Doc. He massaged the bridge of his nose and took a small breath to recollect his thoughts. “It’s this damn dream I had a few nights ago.” Spina took a bite of his half, nearly scarfing it down unlike Doc who savored his bites.

“What was this dream about again?” asked Spina. Doc removed his helmet and scratched the back of his head.

“A woman in distress,” said Doc, his voice range dropped a little deeper than normal. “It sounded like Rachel.” Spina suddenly felt sick to his stomach when he tried to take another bite of the granola bar. 

“Oh.” he murmured. “That dream.” Doc rested his elbows on top of his thighs. He folded his hands together as he placed his thumbs against his lips.

“Yeah,” croaked Doc. He cleared his throat to find his voice. “Yeah. That dream.”

“It’s still bothering you?” said Spina, the concern clear in both his voice and facial expression. Doc sat up straighter and placed his helmet next to him. He stuck his tongue into the sides of one of his cheeks and heaved a worried sigh.

“I think Rachel’s in danger,” he said in a barely audible voice. Spina cupped one of his ears and moved closer to his friend.

“What was that Gene?”  
“Rachel. She might be in danger!” exclaimed Doc. “This dream I had---I couldn’t get to whoever was yelling for me---” Doc ran his fingers through his dark hair in distress. “Shit, why does the war need to keep me from seeing Rachel?! Why are we separated?! Why can’t we spend time together?!” Doc thrust his helmet to the ground with a single swipe of his hand. He stood up and started pacing around his foxhole.

“Gene--”

“I’ll tell you why we can’t spend longer than a few minutes together!” clipped Doc. “Because the stupid war has to come first! I can’t leave a fellow medic behind! One man can only do so much under pressure.” Doc began breathing heavily, soon trying to get his breathing back to a steady rhythm. Spina had forgotten how much power Doc had in his voice whenever he was angry making him sound like he was taking control. Drawing back from when Easy was in Holland, he witnessed Doc scolding the officers for not placing morphine syrettes on Moose Heyliger’s jacket. Spina placed a hand on Doc’s shoulder, forcing him to sit back down and recompose himself.

“Breathe, Gene,” Spina advised. “Deep breaths. In through your nose, out through your mouth on a sigh.” Doc closed his eyes as he tried concentrating on his breathing. Spina’s hand stayed on his friend’s broad shoulder, the difference in his shoulder tension had changed drastically; he no longer felt a tight knot in the blade. “Just like that, Gene.” Doc continued doing the breathing pattern until he was back to his soft-spoken self, ready to talk the right way.

“Better?”

“Much better,” said Doc. “Sorry, Spina. I didn’t mean to go off like that. “

“You’re frustrated,” said Spina earnestly. “I get that. Think all of us are in the same boat as you, my friend. I know it’s hard not being with the one you really care about, but Rachel’s gotta do her job just like the rest of us.” Doc turned his head towards his best friend knowing he was right. He sucked in one of his cheeks and looked at the snow covered earth. “Hell, I bet Rachel’s feeling the exact same way. But you know what you can do? Just think positive thoughts about her! Read her letters over and over again! Think about why she makes you smile! Those kinds of things!”

Doc nodded his head in understanding, thankful he had a good friend like Spina watching his back whilst the war continued to rage on across the European front. 

“Thanks, Spina,” said Doc. His lips curved into a small smile as he took another bite of the granola bar.

“Happy to help, buddy!” beamed Spina. “Now, once you finish that, get some sleep; for more than a few minutes.” Spina pat Doc on his back before he trekked to his own hole. Doc took the last bite of his granola bar and scooped his helmet off of the ground. He slid into his foxhole and wrapped the blanket around himself as he tried to find a comfortable sleeping position, soon drifting into a blissful slumber, dreaming pleasant dreams of Rachel.

***

**24 December 1944: Ardennes Forest: The Bois Jacques: 26 miles from Bastogne, Belgium**

The sun rose above the world slowly the next morning. The sky was clear of flakes giving the soldiers a better view as to how bad the damage was. Doc sat in his foxhole, intently watching the empty forest. He knew something was behind those trees as he saw a small smoke cloud emerging from them. Doc reached into one of his pockets, grazing his grandmother’s ring with his fingers as he took out his string, clutching it in his hands as he swallowed a lump that formed in his throat. 

Doc kept his gaze firm, despite quaking in his boots upon what sounded like a set of squeaky wheels followed by a second puff of smoke. The soldiers watched the smoke swirl near the trees, fingers resting on the triggers of their guns patiently awaiting whatever German weapons they’d be up against this time. Smokey took his cup of coffee off of the flame to warm his cold fingers. Doc raised his shoulders up to his ears. He glanced sideways towards the sounds, at the same time trying not to shake from the cold.

Sergeant Lipton ran out of the forest into the open area, creating a small breeze, only making Doc a lot colder than he already was.

“Hey, Doc,” he said never stopping for a breather. “It’s gonna get busy pal.” Lipton continued running forward. “Hold your fire, boys. Don’t let them draw you out.”

“Hold your fire!” called a soldier.

“Stay ready, boys.”

“What the hell are we gonna hit those things with, Lip?!” called a soldier. 

“Hold your fire,” said Lipton. The shelling started off steady at first with a couple of blasts a few feet away from the foxholes. “Get ready, Walter!” Smokey loaded his weapon quickly, pulling the handle towards him a couple of times for extra firepower.

“Stay in your holes, guys!” called another soldier. 

“All you 3rd Platoon, say ready!” yelled Lipton from the distance. Smokey turned his head away from the line to check his ammunitions. Suddenly, as if out of thin air, a bullet struck Smokey; a straight and clear shot through both of his shoulders. Smokey stumbled backwards against his hole and let out a sharp breath. Whatever control he used to have over his body diminished. His head rolled to one side as he knocked over his cup of coffee, spilling the hot liquid on his legs. 

“Smokey’s hit! Medic!” cried a soldier.

Doc sat in his foxhole observing the scenario that was happening. He wasn’t sure where the call for a medic was coming from or who was hit. He was too caught up in observing he jumped when Spina shook his shoulder.

“Hey, Gene!” urged Spina. Doc continued staring ahead at the line, trying to catch his breath and get himself under control. “Let’s go!

“Medic!” yelled another soldier.

“Come on, let’s go!” demanded Spina. Doc took a few seconds to make sure he was calm enough to function.

“Okay. Go!” exclaimed Doc. He pushed Spina out of the hole, scrambling over the edge to the cry for help. Two soldiers lifted Smokey out of his foxhole and began to dragging him away from the artillery. 

“Medic!” The two soldiers lowered Smokey down to the ground gently. One of them started patting him down looking for a certain object.

“Hi, Mo,” said Smokey weakly. Sgt. Alley reached inside of the folds of Smokey’s jacket and pulled out a black pistol.

“I got it. I’m keeping it for you,” the soldier promised. Doc found his way over to the soldiers who called for a medic. He pushed through the both of them to get a better look.

“Smoke!” said Doc.

“I can’t feel my legs, Gene,” whimpered Smokey. He tried to sit up, except he could only move his head slightly before dropping it again.

“Take it easy,” said Doc gently. “My foxhole! Get the plasma now!” Doc unbuttoned the large coat Smokey was wearing.

“Here they come!” yelled a soldier. Doc turned his head quickly over his shoulder to see what was coming through the trees. Several tanks with Germans dressed in white uniforms emerged blending in perfectly into the snow like chameleons. Machine guns opened fire on the paratroopers as some dove for cover. The soldier that was with Doc was trying to help him get the jacket off of Smokey.

“You got it?” said the soldier

“Yeah, I got it. Go!” called Doc. He flipped his hand upwards, shooing the soldier back to the foxhole. The soldier jumped in quickly getting himself up against the gun. 

“Machine guns open fire!” yelled Lipton. Without hesitation, Easy Company fired back, throwing every bullet they had at the Germans. Doc stayed closer towards the back working on Smokey. He held a syrette in between his teeth and ripped the sleeve on Smokey’s uniform near his shoulder enough to stick the syrette in. Smokey tried to sit up on his own, except he was still unsuccessful from the first time. Doc helped him to sit up as he unraveled a roll of bandages and placed white padding against his arm. He didn’t pay much attention to the battle for his mind was in full medic mode, quickly taking care of the problem at hand.

The Germans continued to push through, some sliding off of the tanks firing back at the Screaming Eagles. In the midst of the skirmish, another soldier got hit in the leg. Doc didn’t pay much attention for he was almost done getting Smokey’s wounds patched up. He switched to the other shoulder, following the same pattern he did for the previous one. Doc unrolled another set of bandages as as coupled of bullets whizzed past his head. Doc stood behind Smokey was he wrapped the second set of bandages across his arm like a bandolier, except he was having difficulty.

“Sergeant Lipton!” cried Doc. He scanned the area rapidly before unraveling the bandages again. Lipton ran over to him and grabbed Smokey’s free arm, allowing Doc to tie the bandage in place.

“Doc, we gotta get the hell outta here,” said Lipton collectedly. He reached a gloved hand towards Smokey’s face and pat it to keep his eyes open. “Hey, hey, come on. Stay with us, Smokey. Stay with us! Doc, we gotta get the hell outta here!” Doc grabbed Smokey with his free hand, the other carrying the plasma. He held the cord in between his teeth as Lipton grabbed the collar on Smokey’s uniform. “You ready? Alright, let’s go!”

The two men dragged Smokey off of the field, dodging stray bullets as they kept pulling Smokey out into the clearing. Doc looked around the area to check to see if the coast was clear. Seeing the area in broad daylight, the clearing felt familiar, except it was much quieter than the last time he visited; it was the same place where he had met and escorted Rachel back towards the jeep. The memory of that night played clearly in his mind, nearly causing him to break out into a smile. Doc pushed his personal thoughts aside for he remembered he still wasn’t finished with his job.

“Stop. We gotta stop,” said Doc. The two men placed Smokey down carefully as Doc held the needle in his hand. He handed the bottle of liquid to Lipton. “Take the plasma.” Doc held the cord in between his teeth again as he rolled one of Smokey’s sleeves up. He checked for a good vein to stick the needle into with a couple of his fingers. Lipton looked down at Smokey with worry seeing how he was slipping in and out of consciousness.

“Hey. Hey, come on, Walter,” he encouraged. “Come on, buddy. Hurry, Doc. Come on, Doc. I gotta get back to the line.”

“Okay, okay,” said Doc calmly. He tapped on Smokey’s arm with two fingers finding a solid vein. Carefully, he placed Smokey’s arm on the ground.

“Lip,” said Smokey weakly.

“Yeah, buddy?” said Lipton, a glimmer of hope returning to his eyes.

“You’re standing on my hand,” said Smokey. Lipton looked down and hadn’t noticed the position of his foot earlier. 

“Sorry, pal,” he replied taking his foot off the hand. “Look, I’ll get you another Purple Heart for it.” Lipton ran towards the back as he heard a Jeep pulling up to where Doc and Lipton were. Doc stuck the needle into Smokey’s arm and taped it in place. He held the plasma bottle above the heart as Lipton flagged down the Jeep. “Hey! Hey! Hey, give us a hand!” Lipton jogged back over, bearing good news. “I got you a ride, Doc.”

The jeep arrived at the aid station quickly. Doc sat in the back checking in on Smokey every now and then. The jeep drove past a large pile of dead bodies but Doc looked right past them. He took the large blanket that was covering Smokey and held the plasma in the other, careful not to wrap it around his head. The two soldiers lifted Smokey towards the aid station.

Doc followed close behind the other soldiers. He tried looking for a place to put him where Smokey wouldn’t get stepped on by accident. He looked for Rachel, hoping she could help them.

“Jones!” called one of the soldiers helping Doc. Another medic turned seeing Doc and the small group of soldiers coming down the stairs. 

“Give it here,” said the medic. Doc gave the plasma to him as he looked at how crowded the aid station was becoming. “Okay, put him here.” Not only were there nurses, medics and wounded soldiers, some townsfolk were huddled together trying to comfort each other. Doc caught sight of Rachel out of the corner of his eye from the back room, unfortunately not seeing him for she disappeared to a different area.

“Where's his tag? Where's his tag?” said Jones a little gruffly.“What's wrong with him?”

“Paralyzed,” said Doc softly.

“What?”

“He’s paralyzed. Can't feel a thing,” said Doc a little louder. Rachel came from the back room, disposing some of the bloodied rags into the hot water. She was about to place the rest in when she saw a familiar outline. She stepped a little closer just to make sure here eyes weren’t playing tricks on her.

“Eugene?” said Rachel. Doc turned towards her when he heard his name being spoken. Rachel didn’t like what Doc’s countenance was reading. Even though he was staring at her, it felt like he was looking right past her into an endless void, haunted by ghosts of soldiers he couldn’t save. Rachel approached him with care “Eugene.”

Doc felt guilt wash over him like cold water for not spending more time with Rachel. It had been eating him up ever since he went back to the line the day prior. 

“Rachel!” called Renée. Rachel looked behind her shoulder then back at Doc.

“Are you--”

“Rachel, I need some help here.” Rachel looked back to where Renée was calling for her. 

“Are you alright?” said Rachel. Doc looked down at his shoes, that terrible guilty feeling felt like it was clawing at his stomach. He swallowed a lump that formed in his throat. He rubbed the back of his neck as he brought his head up to meet her concerned gaze.

“Do you have a minute?” said Doc. Rachel nodded her head gently. She placed the bloodied rag into a pot of hot water and smoothed her apron.

“Yes. Of course,” she said. She looked to see if there was an area she and Doc could talk privately. Rachel motioned for Doc to follow her to the back room away from the others. Once they knew they were in private, Doc embraced Rachel tightly and kissed her passionately. The two pulled away from their kiss briefly to rest their foreheads against each other's, both of them smiling.

“Oh, Rachel,” said Doc softly. He held her against him and closed his eyes. He tangled his fingers through her long pretty waves. For the first time in what seemed like an eternity, Doc had found a reason to be happy again.

“It's alright, Gene,” said Rachel tenderly. She rubbed Doc's chest gently. She reached up to take his helmet off of his head, placing it next to them, getting a better look in his eyes. Bags had formed underneath them as Rachel held the sides of his cheeks gently. “Sweetheart. Have you been getting enough sleep?” Doc held her arms gently and looked at the ground. He shook his head and felt the back of his throat become warmer like he had swallowed a scalding broth.

“No,” he said softly. “I haven't.”

“You have to take care of yourself too, Gene,” said Rachel in an almost whisper. She rubbed his shoulders gently as Doc kissed her forehead, then her nose. He hung his head in defeat and shook his head.

“I can’t sleep, babydoll,” he said quietly. 

“Eugene--”

“I’m serious,” said Doc with a bit more projection. “If I close my eyes, I’m scared I’m gonna miss the call for a medic. I keep having this terrible dream where I can’t get to you and---oh God---”

“Shhh,” said Rachel soothingly. She touched the sides of Doc's face gently, inches away from his lips. “It’s your mind playing tricks on you. It was just a bad dream.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and gazed into his dark blue eyes. “We’re together now. It’s just us, sweetheart.”

“You're absolutely right,” said Doc. He kissed her long and slow, savoring the softness of her lips one hand tangling through her hair, the other caressing the small of her back. Doc felt her shudder, goosebumps formed over both of their skin as they slowly began to become more comfortable with them touching each other. The two of them stopped kissing briefly to catch their breath as Doc kissed her forehead then the tip of her nose, working his way back down to her lips. “I don't wanna go back to the line, babydoll. I wanna stay here with you.”

“I know you don't want to go back, Gene” said Rachel sympathetically. “But the wounded need us. We can't forget our duties.” Doc rested his forehead against hers again and sighed in defeat for he knew she was right. “I don’t like it anymore than you do.” A playful smirk crossed over Doc’s lips as he held Rachel closer to him.

“Who says I gotta go back right away, _ma chère_?” he said with a wink, the tone of his voice deepened, the hints of French coming out in his accent, making Rachel’s knees almost give out from underneath her. Rachel giggled sweetly as Doc pressed his lips against hers with a little more passion. His touch was gentle and steady as Rachel gripped the front of his uniform collar deepening the kiss, wanting her lover closer to her. Doc felt Rachel’s lips curve upwards into a smile against his own, he smiling back at her through their kiss, sometimes pulling away slightly and keeping the pace slow so he wouldn’t make Rachel feel uncomfortable. 

“Rachel? _Où es-tu?”_ called Renée. Doc and Rachel broke their kiss again, however very reluctantly, several lingering kisses still on their lips.

_“J’arrive! Attendez s’il vous plaît!”_ called Rachel.

“I should go,” said Doc. “I don’t wanna get you in trouble for not doing your job.” Doc scooped his helmet up and placed it back onto his head.

He headed back outside into the frigid air and was about to board a jeep. Rachel ran outside quickly to catch up to him.

“Gene! Wait!” she called. Doc stepped away from the jeep and went back over to Rachel. She reached up and grabbed the front of Doc’s jacket and kissed him long and good. She broke the kiss gently but still stood close enough to him, staring straight into his handsome eyes. “Be careful out there alright?”

Doc smiled and gazed at her. He tucked a strand of hair behind one of her small ears.

“I’ll do my best, just for you” he said. Doc crossed his heart and looked at her lovingly. _“Je promets, ma belle.”_ He pulled Rachel into another long, but gentle kiss, breaking it slowly as he gazed into her beautiful eyes.

“I know you will,” said Rachel gently, feeling herself getting lost in his soulful blue eyes. She straightened his collar, wishing she had more time to spend with him but she knew Renée would be needing her help soon. “Now go. We don’t want to keep the soldiers waiting.” Doc’s lips curved into a gentle smile as he kissed Rachel’s cheek.

_“À plus tard, mon amour.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations for French:  
>  ma chère: my dear  
> Où es-tu?: Where are you?  
> J'arrive! Attendez s'il vous plaît!: I'm coming! Wait please!  
> Je promets, ma belle.: I promise, my beautiful one.  
> À plus tard, mon amour.: See you later, my love.


	7. 24 December 1944: Ardennes Forest: The Bois Jacques: 26 miles from Bastogne, Belgium

The soldiers stood in line waiting for hot food as the sun began to slip behind the clouds. Doc sat against a tree staring ahead with uncertainty. He should have felt more happy that he got see Rachel and spend a little more time with her, however, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was gonna happen to her. The more he thought about it, his hands began to quiver slightly. 

“Here you go, man” said the cook. He handed the tin cup off to a soldier as the line started getting smaller. Babe glanced back over his shoulder at Doc. He knew he had a tendency to distance himself from the others, except that wasn’t the thing that caught his attention. His expression was blank, his eyes staring ahead or down at the ground like it was a thousand yards away followed by unusual amounts of silence and sleep deprivation, symptoms Babe himself had experienced after John Julian died. Babe brought his thoughts away from Doc and back towards the cook handing out food. He dumped some stew into Babe’s cup.

“One for the Doc,” said Babe holding up another empty tin. The cook poured another helping of stew into the cup as Babe made his way over to the medic. 

Doc continued staring into what seemed like an endless void. The dream of the woman screaming for help, the cries for a medic clouding his mind, sometimes making him jump if someone touched him slightly or said his name in the real world. He still couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen to Rachel. His stomach churned into knots, his skin growing paler, almost to the point it was sickly. For the first time since Doc had joined the war, fear was slowly starting to take over, he could feel it in the pit of his stomach. Babe came up to Doc holding one of the two tin cups out in front of him. 

“Doc…” said Babe gently. Doc didn’t notice Babe’s arm in front of him at first. He moved his gaze towards the tin cup, taking it away from Babe’s hand slowly as Heffron left him to his thoughts again. Doc wrapped his fingers around the tin, his gaze shifting back towards the invisible void, not noticing Colonel Sink coming through the trees with Winters and some other men.

“We’re all sitting down to a Christmas Eve dinner of turkey and hooch back at the Division CP,” said Sink. “Damned if I don’t like old Joe Domingus’ rancid-ass beans better.” Sink walked through the group of soldiers who were chatting and eating their own Christmas Eve dinner. He centered himself, the other soldiers drawing their attention to him in an instant. “Hello, Easy Company.”

“Hello, sir,” replied Easy. 

“General McAuliffe sent a message to the entire division,” said Sink. “Thought maybe you people would like to hear it.” Winters stood by a tree holding his arms across himself, sometimes moving from side to side to keep himself warm.

“That should be your prerogative, sir,” said Winters. Sink took out a slip of paper from one of his coat pockets and unfolded it.

“Men...General McAuliffe wishes us all a ‘Merry Christmas,’” he read. “‘What’s merry about all this you ask? We’ve stopped cold everything that’s been thrown at us from the North, East, South and West. Now, two days ago the German commander demanded our honorable surrender to save the U.S.A. encircled troops from total annihilation. The German commander received the following reply: ‘To the German commander: Nuts!’” 

Several soldiers let out soft chuckles and looked at each other gleefully. Winters brought his attention away from what Sink was reading and looked over at Doc. For several days, Winters kept an extra close eye on his medic, worrying if he was going to have to take him off of the line from how close he was to reaching his breaking point. It pained him too much to think about taking Doc off the line, knowing he had already done so much for Easy since day one and watching a man who was suffering in silence but refused to show it for the sake of his fellow soldiers. 

“Merry Christmas to you all and God bless you,” said Sink.

“Nuts, sir!” chimed Easy. “Nuts! Nuts!”

***

The front was quiet that same evening except for several German soldiers singing Silent Night rather loudly. Doc curled himself under the thin Army blanket in his foxhole, doing his best efforts to stay warm. Sleep had finally won a battle over him for once, pulling him into a hopefully blissful slumber. Winters began to make his rounds for the evening checking in on his troopers. He stopped once he got to Doc’s foxhole, crouching down next to it. 

For several days, Winters kept an extra close eye on Doc, growing more concerned that he might have to take him off of the line from how close he was to reaching his breaking point. It pained him too much to think about that. Doc was the best medic in the company. He was always there when he was needed, doing his job efficiently and having saved several of the men’s lives since Normandy, making him the most respected and favored by everyone. Now Winters was beginning to see the harsh truth as his own heart grew heavier in his chest; Doc was silently suffering and no one was taking care of him. 

_ When was the last time Eugene had a break? _

Guarnere and Buck were sitting in their foxhole silently. Buck reached inside of his uniform, taking out a picture. A small smile formed over his lips as he gazed at the picture longingly.

“Bill,” said Buck softly. Guarnere turned his head towards his foxhole mate as Buck held the picture in between the both of them. “Picture of my girl.” Bill nodded his head in approval.

“Good-looking broad, Buck,” he replied. Buck placed the picture on Guarnere’s chest and pat it, his countenance changing to disappointed and sad. 

“She’s...She’s finished with me,” said Buck, trying to hold back tears. 

“Yeah?” said Guarnere in disbelief. 

“Yeah, she’s a…”Buck ran his hand down his face as he let out a soft chuckle, quickly wiping any stray tears away before Bill could notice. 

“Just in time for Christmas, huh?” said Guarnere sympathetically. Buck took a deep breath to hold back his tears and shook his head towards the sky.

“Just in time for Christmas.”

In another foxhole, several of the soldiers in Easy were huddled together underneath a tarp. They sat in silence, continuing to listen to the German soldiers “joyous” singing. 

“Oh shit! I almost forgot.” said Malarkey. He dug through one of his uniform pockets and took out a white package that crinkled whenever he reached inside. “Lucky Strikes means fine tobacco.”

“Where the hell did you get those?!” said Muck astonished.

“Merry Christmas, fellas,” said Malarkey beaming. He pulled two cigarettes from the packet and stuck both of them into Muck’s mouth. “You gotta thank jolly old St. Luz.” Malarkey took the Zippo lighter from the package attempting to light the smokes. It was so cold, even the flame couldn’t ignite. Malarkey blew onto the flame to help ignite it the second time he was successful in lighting the cigarettes. Muck took a drag of one and took another out of his mouth. Penkala sat next to Muck shaking like the last leaf on a tree in fall before the beginning of winter. 

“Here you go, Penk,” said Muck. Penkala looked at the cigarette and continued to shake. His whole body was overcome with the cold, he couldn’t move his fingers.

“I am shaking so goddamn much, I feel like I’m dancing,” said Penkala. Muck still held the other cigarette in between his fingers as Penkala leaned his head forward to grab the cigarette in between his teeth.

“Here you go, buddy. Here you go.”

Peacock sat next to a small fire that another one of the officers fashioned. The second officer was a short Irishman with a head of curly short brown hair, similar to fuzz on a teddy bear. Whenever the officer smiled or spoke, he had a small gap in between his teeth. Winters approached the two officers after following the source of where the smell of smoke was coming from.

“Harry. Fire’s not a good idea,” said Winters quietly. 

“Just a couple of minutes,” said Welsh. He rubbed his hands together and stared at the small flame. “We’re in a dell.” Winters crouched next to the two soldiers for he was starting to feel a chill himself, despite wearing a scarf around his neck and gloves.

“A dell? Like where fairies and gnomes live?” said Winters. He reached his hands out, savoring the small amount of warmth for a few minutes as Nixon joined the three officers huddled together. His hands were shoved under his armpits and his head was covered with a balaclava.

“I swear I thought I could smell a fire,” said Nixon. He fixed his gun on his shoulder and crouched down next to the three officers. “I did smell a fire. Are you out of your mind?”

“No, we’re in a dell,” replied Winters. Nixon raised one of his eyebrows in confusion.

“Huh?” Before Winters could respond, a large white flash of light illuminated the darkened forest, a sound that was hurtling straight towards the four officers.

“Down!” called Winters. The four of them leapt towards the ground as another round of artillery shells started up again. Welsh however was the unlucky one out of the four for he landed right on top of the fire, back first and yelled in pain as the artillery fire continued, one of his legs began bleeding heavily.

“Put out the fire!” ordered Nixon. Both him and Winters were trying to get Welsh to calm down as his screams of anguish grew louder.

“Medic!” yelled Winters.

“This is Captain Nixon. I need an A-jeep to 2nd Battalion CP,” said Nixon as calmly as he could into the radio as Welsh’s cries of pain rang out louder than the shelling and fought against Winters’ grip as he and Peacock lifted him off of the hot embers into the cold snow, Welsh lifting his head as he tried to force himself to sit up.

“Stay still, Harry!” said Winters. 

“Peacock, put that out!” cried Nixon. Lieutenant Peacock used his foot to put out the last few dying embers quickly. “Repeat: A-jeep to 2nd Battalion CP.”

“Medic!” yelled Winters. “Roe! Doc!” 

The shelling continued to get worse as Babe and Spina ran through the smoke trying to find where Doc was hiding out. They found him still curled up in his foxhole, wrapping the blanket around himself like he was a scared little boy.

“Doc!” called Spina. Doc tried hiding his face behind his blanket and refused to get up from his spot. 

“Gene,” said Babe as he crouched next to Doc’s hole and extended a hand out to him. Doc still didn’t budge. He wanted nothing more than to sink into his foxhole and disappear from the terrible shelling, even though his blanket wasn’t enough protection.

“Come on, Doc,” said Spina as he reached his own hands out to his friend. Doc still didn’t move as he tried to wrap the blanket tighter around himself.

“Is he hurt?” said Babe.

“I don’t know,” was Spina’s reply. Babe jumped into Doc’s foxhole and shook him awake quickly, Spina doing the same.

“Move!” called Babe. 

“We gotta go,” said Spina, tapping the back of Babe’s shoulder. 

“Alright, go,” said Babe. He continued to shake Doc’s shoulder trying to pull him out of his slumber. “Eugene. Gene, come on get up.”

“Rachel?” said Doc half groggy, his eyes still blurry from sleep he could still be fading in and out of a dream he was having about her. 

“Who the hell is Rachel?” said Babe. 

“Rachel?!” called Doc still half asleep, his voice sounded exhausted like he was going to burst into tears at any second. “No! No! Rachel! Rachel!”

“Come on, Gene. Get up. The captain’s yelling. Come on, get up!” called Babe.

“Okay…”

“Okay!” called Babe as he helped to lift Doc out of his hole. “Okay, get up.” As soon as Babe got Doc nearly halfway out of his hole, an artillery blast exploded close to them. “Not okay, lie down.” The shelling had ceased as Babe pushed Doc out of his hole. “Okay, get up! Come on! Move. Jesus Christ.” Doc, still half asleep scrambled over the side of his foxhole with a little too much vigor, he didn’t even notice Babe yelp in pain. He held his punctured hand as the warm blood spilled over it.

“Oh, my hand! My goddamn hand!”

***

“Roe!” cried Winters from the opposite side of the forest. Doc continued to follow the sound of Winters’ voice. He knew he was getting closer when he heard the screams of pain.

“Oh, Jesus!” grimaced Welsh. He could still feel the fire burning through his flesh as he started shaking violently. Doc strolled over to where the four officers were as they tried to restrain Harry Welsh from hurting himself even more. Doc stopped halfway in his tracks, his mouth gaping open at seeing who was hurt. He couldn’t get himself to move forward for his boots felt like they were being weighed down with lead.

“Roe,” said Winters bringing Doc back to reality. “Stay still, Harry.”

“It’s just a scratch, Harry,” said Nixon.

“Jeep’s on it’s way. Hang tough,” said Winters.

Doc knelt down next to the group of soldiers as he rummaged through his satchel looking for something he could use to prop Welsh’s head up at least. 

“Towel,” said Doc. Winters and Nixon lifted Welsh slightly as Doc rolled the towel quickly. “I got morphine in my pocket. Give it to him.” With his free hand, Winters reached into Doc’s pocket and took out the wrapped morphine syrette as Doc slid the rolled towel underneath Welsh.

“Where do you want it?” said Winters.

“Opposite thigh,” replied Doc. He started applying slight pressure to Welsh’s wounded leg as he wrapped some bed sheets as temporary bandages around it. 

“Okay,” said Winters. He ripped the white wrapping off and handed the morphine syrette to Doc. Quickly, the medic took the cap off and held it in between his teeth as he stuck it into Welsh’s opposite thigh hard. The cries of anguish had subsided, Welsh looking much more sedated.

“Elevate his head,” said Doc. Winters and Nixon lifted Harry’s head gently as Doc wrote an M on his forehead from the blood covering his hand, that way whoever would be helping next knew he had some morphine. 

“Thanks, Doc,” said Welsh more relaxed. The jeep rolled up in the nick of time.

“Get him up,” said Doc. Two soldiers from the jeep came over and lifted Welsh off the ground, Winters still supporting him until he knew the other soldiers had their grip.

“There you go, soldier, take that,” said Winters. Doc sat back on his heel to recollect himself for a second. He took the cap out of his mouth and let out a deep breath in exasperation. He stared blankly ahead towards the forest in front of him, trying to let those awful screams pass, except he couldn’t. Winters, remembering what he saw earlier approached Doc. “Eugene, get yourself into town. Get a hot meal.”

***

Bastogne had changed significantly from the last time he visited. German planes flew overhead dropping bombs. Several searchlights waved frantically as aircraft guns attempted to shoot down the planes. The jeep drove into the square as people ran by screaming and running away trying to escape as bombs began going off, destroying buildings and breaking glass. Doc scanned the area looking for any sign of Rachel, praying she didn't get caught up in this mess. 

Another jeep swerved past with flames engulfing it and smashing into a building. Doc ducked his head when any explosions went off, sometimes looking up carefully for any sign of Rachel. He hopped off the back of the jeep, hoping he would find her and take her somewhere away from here. He started making his way back towards the aid station just when a bomb struck it, sending shattered glass into the air and wooden beams to collapse. 

Doc shielded himself from the debris as he looked towards the entryway of the aid station. His heart raced with fear for he still couldn’t find his beloved anywhere. He jogged over to the entrance, stopping to see how bad the damage was. His eyes widened upon something that caught his attention, a piece of fabric that was hanging off of the damaged beams, his worst fear being realized when he saw what the fabric was that was hanging: a blue headscarf. His heart became heavy, like it was sinking into the pit of his stomach. Doc glanced towards the pile of rubble, hoping there’d be a sign of change, praying Rachel would somehow miraculously emerge from the damage. He was wrong. There was no other signs of life inside of the aid station. 

Doc picked up the headscarf and held it in his hands, keeping his head low. Tears welled in his handsome blue eyes and streamed down his face onto the headscarf as his lower lip quivered. It was only a number of hours ago when he last saw Rachel. The tears became more consistent as Doc thought about how they shared a kiss several times, that beautiful smile he grew so fond of was taken too soon by German guns. Doc held her headscarf against his heart as the tears continued to flow down his cheeks as he choked back a sob. He hated himself for not telling Rachel how much he loved her sooner. 

“Get out! Quick!” called a soldier. “Stay out of there! Are you nuts? Medic! Get your ass out here! Come on!” Doc took a deep breath telling himself not to dwell on losing Rachel forever. He had to remind himself that this was the sad reality of war. He tucked Rachel’s headscarf into his pocket, tears falling down his face as he left the remains of the aid station. 

***

Doc came back to the line early the next morning. He walked all night and pulled himself together as best as he could. His fingers ran over the soft blue fabric of the headscarf, sometimes pinching a corner and rubbing it in between his pointer finger and thumb, trying not to think about what happened in less than 24 hours. Babe Heffron sat in his hole, looking extremely cold and just as sad as he watched the line. He held his punctured hand up as he sat there motionless. Doc slid into the foxhole.

“Everything okay?” He asked. “Babe?”

“Yeah,” replied Heffron. He sniffed and wiped his nose with his punctured hand, giving Doc a better look.

“Hey, how’d you do that?” He said taking the punctured hand carefully into his own.

“You did that,” said Babe quietly. 

“I’ll fix it up,” said Doc softly. He reached into his pocket only to take out Rachel's headscarf. His heart sunk a little in his chest as he swallowed a lump that formed in his throat. He was about to put her headscarf back into his pocket. He remembered how Rachel would try to give back to the soldiers, asking them if they needed anything to help them feel more comfortable or if any nurses or other medics needed supplies. She did it out of her own generosity and kindness of her heart. Doc knew she wouldn't want him to be selfish. He ripped her headscarf into two pieces, tucking the other half back into his pocket as he started patching up Babe’s hand.

“Hey, Gene, you called me 'Babe’,” said Babe smiling, almost looking like he was about to laugh.

“I did? When?” said Doc. Babe continued to hold his hand up and smiled a giddy smile.

“Just now.”

“Babe.” said Doc, saying the word slowly almost like it was a foreign concept. “I guess I did.” He reached into his pocket and took out the sulfa powder as he put it on Heffron’s hand. Babe chuckled as he gave a cheeky smile for he had finally gotten Doc to call him by his nickname.

“Babe,” he said imitating Doc. 

“Heffron, watch the goddamn line,” said Doc. Babe let out another soft chuckle as Doc continued wrapping his hand, feeling a little better knowing Rachel was still helping him in spirit.


	8. 02 January 1945: Ardennes Forest, Bois Jacques: 26 miles away from Bastogne, Belgium

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As if this chapter couldn't get any sadder: Listen to Autumn Leaves by Vera Lynn  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yOQMUrTkCr4&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=26&t=0s

Nine days. It had been nine days since Easy Company was rescued by General Patton’s Third Army, finally allowing well needed supplies the Screaming Eagles were in desperate need of. Nine days. Those days also served as a painful reminder to Doc that Rachel now lay under the rubble of the aid station in Bastogne, a memory he was still having difficulty with grasping. Doc sat in his foxhole and took out the second half of Rachel’s headscarf. He ran his thumbs over the fabric, feeling tears forming in his eyes again. Several memories of Rachel flashed before him; when they first met, the night she brought the morphine to him, her pretty smile and her laughter. The tears leaked from his eyes quickly as he tried holding himself together. He could hear her sweet and gentle voice giving him advice and pleasant talk.

“ _I know what it's like having people tell me I can't do what I put my heart and mind to. Those people only want to make me work harder towards my goal.”_ he heard her say. Doc saw that night she came to the line and how they were talking to pass the time and how she kissed his cheek when he rambled. _“You’re cute when you ramble. Take care of yourself out there, soldier boy.”_ He heard her say his name several times in his flashbacks only making his tears worse. For several days, he couldn’t grieve over her properly for there was more casualties and he had to take care of them before he could take care of himself. Doc couldn't take it anymore. He threw off his helmet and brought his knees up to his eyes and wrapped his arms around them, letting out quiet cries. Spina was passing through the area looking for Doc. He needed to divide supplies amongst the two of them.

“Gene! Where are you? I’ve got---” he stopped short upon hearing sniffling and soft crying. He turned to see Doc with his head down and hiding behind his arms. “Gene?” Doc didn’t answer. Spina sat next to him and rubbed his back. “It's Rachel again isn't it?” Doc moved his head slightly as if to say yes. He brought his head up slowly, the tears falling off his face like waterfalls. Doc rested his chin on top of his arms, closing his eyes hoping his tears would stop.

“I see her everywhere, Spina” sniffed Doc. He held his hands together as he rested his elbows on top of his thighs. He took a shaky breath and looked at the ground, his tears rolling off of his cheeks as his voice tried not to break. “I loved her, Ralph.” Doc's bottom lip began to quiver. He lowered his head into his hands, his body feeling heavier from the grief he was unable to relinquish.

“Now---Rachel’s---Rachel’s never gonna know how much she meant to me.” Doc couldn’t take holding his tears in much longer. 

“Aww Gene,” said Spina empathetically. He embraced his friend tightly. The moment Doc rested his head against Spina’s chest, the dam had finally broke. He sobbed into Spina’s chest, all those emotions he somehow managed to hold for the past nine days came right out of him and they didn’t stop. Spina pat the side of Doc’s head gently like a father would with his own son. “It’s alright, buddy. It’s alright.” Spina rubbed Doc’s back gently and gripped one of his shoulders as Doc’s sobs quieted to sniffling. “It’s tough saying goodbye to someone you’ve come to love.” Doc’s fingertips touched the side of his temple gingerly. He took deep breaths as small streaks of tears fell down his cheeks. “Do you have anything to remember her by?”

“Not much,” sniffed Doc. “Just---just her headscarf.” He took out the blue fabric and ran his thumbs over it. His lips curved into a sad smile as his tears dripped onto it. “She--she was always trying her best to comfort the wounded in the aid station.”

“What did you love the most about Rachel?” asked Spina. Doc gave himself a minute to process his thoughts. It didn’t take him long for he already saw the images playing in his head.

“Her smile,” said Doc. “She had--the prettiest smile. One glimpse of it and it just lit up a whole room! You couldn't stay upset if Rachel was present.” He looked down at her headscarf again as more crystal tears dripped down his face. “Made it seem like there was no pain to worry about.” Doc fell silent as he held the headscarf against his heart. He closed his eyes and lowered his head feeling more tears cloud his vision. He sniffed back the tears as best as he could but they continued to flow regardless. “I miss her so much, Spina! It hurts just thinking of it!”

“It's alright to feel pain, Gene,” said Spina. “Just because we're fighting a war, it doesn't make us any less human than we already are. Sure, in training they might have told us to show no fear, but what they didn't tell us was it's okay to feel different things like grieving for a loved one. War takes its toll on everybody. Even the strongest of people.” Spina took notice of Rachel’s headscarf. He hated seeing his best friend like this and knew how dangerous it could be for himself and the others if the best medic Easy had was distraught. He needed to cheer up Doc and fast.

“Think of it this way, Gene,” said Spina in a more uplifting tone. “If you ever find yourself feeling down in a situation, think about Rachel! Put yourself into her shoes and think how she would approach the situation. She isn’t gone forever.” Spina pointed to his head, then to his heart. “She's still alive---in here and---in here.” Doc looked towards the ground and wiped his tears away, feeling a little better after his really good cry. Doc took deep, steady breaths to get himself back together, the tears had finally stopped falling.

“Thanks, Spina,” said Doc.

“It’s what I’m here for, Gene,” said Spina with a friendly smile. “Us medics gotta stick together!” Doc smiled a shy smile as he tucked Rachel’s headscarf back into his pocket. He pinched a corner and rubbed it in between his pointer finger and thumb in small circles, some of his grief finally lifting as he thought of the happy memories he made with her in the short time of their romance.

***

Easy Company was digging their foxholes closer to the town of Foy. Lipton, Buck and Guarnere crowded around each other to read a map which was placed on a very uncomfortable Malarkey’s back.

“We were here this morning,” said Lipton pointing to their old location. “And then we came this way.”

“Alright,” said Buck. “So right here’s gotta be the logging road coming through here, which means we get right there.” He pointed with a little too much confidence, directly on Malarkey’s spine.

“Hey! Take it easy!” called Malarkey trying to look up at his friends without losing the spot on the map.

“Stop crying, Malark, or I’ll nail it to your head,” said Buck.

“You should. It’s made of wood,” said Guarnere. Buck folded the map up and handed it over to Lipton for safekeeping.

“Guarnere, move them out,” he said. “Let’s go.”

“Yes, sir,” replied Guarnere. “2nd Platoon, let’s go!” The soldiers quickly gathered up their equipment together and filed out. Doc stayed behind since it was another attack on the woods. He pinched the corner of Rachel’s headscarf again as he kept his head low to the ground to keep the flakes from falling into his eyes. Babe walked next to him and noticed his downward head, a look of concern formed over his face.

“Hey, Gene. You alright?” said Babe. He had noticed Doc’s prolonged staring over the past few days, but never knew how to approach him about it for he didn’t want to sound too weird. Doc didn’t answer him for he continued rubbing his fingers against the fabric of the headscarf getting lost in his own thoughts. “Eugene.” Doc perked his head up slightly as the flakes rolled off of his helmet or collected around the rim.

“You say something, Heffron?” said Doc. Babe licked his chapped lips and fixed his gun so it wasn’t sliding off of his shoulder.

“I asked if you were alright,” said Babe. “You’ve been getting that thousand yard stare again for the past few days.” Doc swallowed a lump in his throat and looked back towards the ground. Most of the time, he flew under everyone’s radar, however there were some things that couldn’t go unnoticed most the time.

“Yeah. I’m okay, Babe,” said Doc softly. “I just--I’ve got some personal things I’m dealing with right now.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” said Babe earnestly. Doc shook his head and stuffed his hands into his pockets. He continued to look at the ground as he bit his lower lip.

“No,” said Doc. “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t feel like talking about it anymore.” Babe nodded his head in understanding as he lowered himself to Doc’s level. 

“Well, if you want somebody to talk to, you can find me hanging out in Bill’s foxhole,” said Babe. He gave Doc a gentle smile and rested a hand on his shoulder. Doc returned the smile and gave a gentle nod in his general direction.

“Thanks, Heffron,” said Doc. Babe squeezed Doc’s shoulder and pat him on the back before heading deeper into the woods. 

***

Doc continued to strengthen his foxhole later that afternoon. It was silent for the most part, until he thought he heard the sound of a horse’s hooves pounding the snow. The small patrol came back through the clearing. There was sporadic German machine gun fire and a couple of casualties, but very little resistance. Doc was glad because now he could get a little bit of rest. He wrapped the thin blanket around himself as he dozed off, his blissful slumber however was interrupted by loud shouting and a horse’s whinny.

“Halt! Halt!” cried the voice. Suddenly, he heard a gunshot, nearly making him jump out of his foxhole and run to see who was hurt, except no one cried for a medic. “Oh, shit….Thank you.” Doc rolled his eyes and groaned as he identified the voice. The same voice who wouldn’t stop talking about getting a Luger and putting everyone else’s souvenirs to shame once he got it since Normandy: Donald Hoobler, the only soldier Doc knew of who got a real kick out of war. Doc didn’t mind Hoobler, except at times he thought he was much too cocky and in over his head. He remembered how his brown eyes would light up over how he shot down a number of Germans and his smile with one tooth missing really overzealous, making him think he was a super soldier almost like Captain America. 

Hoobler returned to the area and went from foxhole to foxhole, telling everyone about his accomplishment. Doc didn’t care and tuned out Hoobler’s bragging as he went to find Spina to see if he could help him strengthen his hole and to keep his mind preoccupied. He found him laughing and talking to Babe.

“Hey it’s Gene!” said Babe. 

“Fellas,” said Doc addressing both of them. He stuck his hands into his pockets, sometimes taking them out and rubbing them together to keep his hands warm.

“You look a lot better than from earlier,” said Spina. 

“Yeah, I feel better already,” said Doc. “You guys need help making your holes stronger?”

“If you want to,” said Babe. He grabbed a pile of pine tree branches and started to lay them out around the perimeter. He looked at the hand Babe punctured and noticed he didn’t have the headscarf around it anymore.

“How’s the hand, Heffron?” said Doc. Babe flexed his fingers and looked down at his once punctured hand.

“Better,” said Babe. “Still kinda sore but at least I’m not bleeding.”

“Make sure you keep it clean as best you can so it don’t get infected,” said Doc. “Even just pouring a little water on it goes a long way.”

“Thanks, Gene,” said Babe. “I’ll keep that in mind. How are you doing, huh?” Doc shrugged his shoulders as he grabbed a set of branches to build up the front flank of the hole.

“Okay, I guess,” he replied towards the ground. Babe raised one of his eyebrows in concern. He knew Doc wasn’t much of a talker anyways, but the way he spoke lower than usual, he knew something was off. Babe glanced at Spina, hoping he’d get an answer from him. Spina merely shook his head as if to warn Babe to tread cautiously.

“I wouldn't keep asking,” he whispered.

“It's okay, Spina,” said Doc. “If Babe wants to know, he oughta know. I don't feel that sad talking about it anymore.” Babe raised both of his eyebrows as a mixture of confusion and concern.

“What happened?” said Babe. Doc took a deep breath and removed his helmet. He smoothed the back of his dark hair and looked towards the ground. He sat next to Babe and rubbed his hands.

“I met this girl at the aid station,” he began. “Beautiful, smart, maybe the sweetest person I’ve ever met. Her name was Rachel---” Doc paused for a moment and felt his heart sink lower into his chest when he said her name. He bit the inside of his lower lip so his grieving heart wouldn’t break more.

“Rachel huh? Ain’t that Hebrew for lamb?” said Babe. Doc nodded his head. He took another deep breath and stuck his tongue inside of his cheek to try and find his words again. 

“I fell in love with her,” he said, sometimes licking his lips to prevent them from chapping. “She---she was really something else, y’know? She had the ability to change people’s feelings with her smile.” Doc could feel more tears wanting to form in his eyes. He lowered his head as he tried to focus on something else that wouldn’t cause him to cry again. “I went back to the aid station after helping Welsh when he landed on top of the fire---” He took another deep breath as he felt himself shaking. He sucked in his lips to form a thin line as he held back his stubborn tears. “---Germans beat me to it---” Doc nodded his head again as he closed his eyes, his shaking continued as he was trying so hard not to start sobbing again.

“Yeah---” he said in hoarse whisper. Spina lowered his head and bit the inside of his cheek remembering how painful it was to see his best friend break down earlier. Even Babe felt like he was going to start crying. Seeing Doc tremble like that sent a harsh chill down his spine, giving him painful reminders about John Julian.

Babe scooted closer to Doc and pulled him into a hug. Doc rested his chin on top of Babe’s shoulder as he shut his eyes tightly, the tears leaking from the corners of his eyes as he gripped the back of his shirt.

“I know how you feel, Gene,” said Babe softly. “You just can’t forget about it. You try, but it creeps right back in when you least expect it.” Babe rubbed Doc’s back gently to let him know he’s not alone in his suffering. Doc took several deep breaths to make sure his tears weren’t gonna fall anymore. He lifted his head slowly as he sniffed back the last few teardrops. Babe squeezed his shoulder in reassurance and gave him a sad smile. “It’s gonna be okay, Gene. The people we care about the most never truly leave us. They’re still alive in our memories.”

“Thanks, Edward,” said Doc. “I appreciate the kind words.” Suddenly, another gunshot disrupted the brief tranquility, making all three soldiers jump.

“Okay! What the hell was that?” said Spina

“Probably a Kraut screwing around with one of his weapons,” said Doc. He could hear several of the other Easy soldiers running towards the sound of the gunshot. 

“Oh, Jesus! It’s Hoob! He’s shot!” cried a soldier.

“Sniper?” questioned Buck.

“No, no, he, he shot himself!”

***

Several soldiers had gathered around Hoobler. He whimpered in pain as he tried to sit up on the ground, the pain of the gunshot surging through his body.

“Stupid...” he whimpered as he tried not to focus on the pain.

“Medic!” called Frank. 

“What happened?!” demanded Buck as he looked to see where the wound was coming from.

“Doc!” called Frank again.

“It’s my fucking leg,” cried Hoobler. His head felt like it was spinning, his uniform becoming warm with blood. He wasn’t sure how much he had lost but he already knew it was a lot.

“You’ll be alright, Hoobler,” assured Frank. 

“He did what? What happened?” said Buck still searching for an answer. A soldier squeezed Hoobler’s hand in hopes of trying to keep him calm.

“It just went off,” cried Hoobler.

“What the hell are you doing with a loaded gun in your pants?” said Buck, distressed. “Damn it!”

“Fuck! I wasn’t touching it or nothing!” cried Hoobler. Buck paced around the area and removed his knit cap, running his fingers in an aggravated fashion through his pale blonde locks.

“Goddamnit! Damn it!” yelled Buck. 

“Medic!” cried Frank again, a little louder hoping Doc would somehow magically appear out of thin air. 

Doc kept running through the forest attempting to follow the growing sound of voices. He could barely distinguish some voices, however he could hear Hoobler whimpering and taking sharp breaths.

“Hurts like a son of a bitch!” cried Hoobler as he tried to breathe through the pain.

“It’s gonna be fine. It’s gonna be okay,” said Buck calmly. Lipton turned his head upon hearing a set of boots that was heading straight for them, with a hint of red on his left arm.

“Doc!” he cried. The other soldiers were saying words of encouragement to try to keep Hoobler calm. “Warm him up. Warm him up. Somebody keep him warm.” Several soldiers grabbed a handful of blankets as Doc emerged in the nick of time.

“Sarge!” he called. Doc slid to his knees to see how bad of a wound he was dealing with this time.

“How’s it looking, Doc?” said Buck. Doc tapped Lipton on his shoulder.

“Sergeant, move. Let me see it,” he said. He squeezed himself next to Lipton and Buck.

“Huh?” said Buck confused.

“Can’t we get him a blanket or something?” said another soldier as Hoobler continued to whine in pain.

“You’re gonna be fine,” assured Lipton. Doc started to assess how bad the wound looked however he couldn’t tell where the blood loss was coming from.

“How is he, Doc?” said Frank.

“Keep talking to him,” instructed Doc calmly. Buck held one of Hoobler’s arms and shook it to try to keep him conscious. Doc took out a pair of incisors as he ripped open Hoobler’s pant leg.

“Okay, listen to me, Hoob, it’s okay,” said Buck.

“You think it was a German leg, Hoob?” said Doc. He tried to remove some layers of clothing, however he needed to be cautious for he could make the wound, wherever it was worse. 

“Doc says it’s not that bad. Ain’t that bad,” said Frank. The pain in his leg was becoming unbearable. Gravity began to pull Hoobler towards the ground as he tried to force himself to sit up again, only making the pain more excruciating as a pained cry escaped his lips. The other soldiers lowered his head gently into one of their laps as another grabbed a handful of blankets.

“Wrap him up. Wrap him up,” said Doc.

“Hang in there, Hoob,” said Lipton. He could see how quickly the light was leaving his eyes, his face as white as a sheet.

“Hey, Lip, you said I was a great shot?” whimpered Hoobler.

“You are,” replied Lipton. “You’re a great shot.”

“Come on, Hoob,” said Buck. “You jump out of planes. You’re a tough man. You’re tough. It’s not that bad at all.” Hoobler began to grow lifeless in the soldiers arms. His eyelids began to stiffen, his expression glazed over like he was frozen in time.

“Stay with us, Hoob. Stay with us!” called Lipton.

“Hoob?” said Buck.

Doc had been working on Hoobler for seemed like a good twenty minutes, maybe even longer. He still wasn’t making much progress and could feel panic rising in his chest. He swallowed it down as best as he could, despite his hands starting to shake slightly.

“Doc, what are we gonna do?” said Lipton.

“How we doing, Doc?” said Buck, praying for some good news.

“I can’t see a thing,” said Doc in an almost whisper. “We gotta get him back to the aid station!”

“Alright, let’s get ready to move him,” said Lipton. The soldiers lifted Hoobler carefully, some holding the blankets around him.

“Doc,” said Buck warily.

“I can’t see anything!” cried Doc again. 

“Perc, I’ll need a jeep.” He continued to try and poke around to see if he could grab the bullet as Hoobler’s eyes closed, his breathing had stopped as Doc continued to try and work on the man. It wasn’t until Lipton stopped him to let him know it was too late.


	9. 02 January 1945: Ardennes Forest, Bois Jacques: 26 miles away from Bastogne, Belgium

Doc sat on the edge of his foxhole later that evening. He stared out ahead of him in deep thought as he took out Rachel’s headscarf. His fingers began to play with it absentmindedly, sometimes clumping it together or weaving it through the spaces in between his fingers. Snowflakes stuck to his dark hair as his helmet rested next to him. He rested his elbows on top of his kneecaps, the headscarf on his lap as his knuckles dug into his jawline. After the incident with Hoobler earlier today, Doc now completely understood why Rachel was so upset if a man died in her care. He continued staring out into that endless void he was becoming much too familiar with and wished it would stop.

“Gene?” said Spina. Doc didn’t hear his friend’s South Philly voice. It sounded distant, like it went through one ear and came out the other. Spina moved closer to Doc to see if he heard him at all. The thousand yard stare was getting worse everyday and it terrified him greatly. Spina let out a discontented sigh as he shook Doc’s shoulder. “Gene.” The force of Spina’s shaking and the projection of his voice was enough to snap Doc back to reality.

“Sorry, Spina I didn’t hear you,” said Doc. He tucked Rachel’s headscarf back into his pocket and dusted his hair off of the flakes making it look like he had a severe case of dandruff. Spina licked his chapped lips and sat next to his best friend.

“I heard about Hoobler,” he said softly. He shook his head and pursed his lips sideways. “Shame too. I liked that kid.”

“There wasn’t much I could’ve done anyways,” sighed Doc. He brought his head up and exhaled deeply, his breath forming a small cloud in the frigid air. “He was wearing so many clothes, even I couldn’t tell how bad he was bleeding. Once that main artery’s hit in your leg---that’s it.” Doc looked down at his leg as he moved his foot in a circle to keep it from falling asleep. He was injured in the jump into Holland, sometimes he could still see the barbed wire he landed on and how he cut his leg open. He was lucky the main artery wasn’t touched for when he landed it barely missed it. Doc picked up his helmet and blew the flakes off of it before placing it back on his head. Spina reached into his pocket and took out a pack of cigarettes and offered one to Doc. He shook his head as Spina popped one into his mouth and lit it. Doc lifted the collar of his jacket to block out the cold and shoved his hands back into his pockets.

“Doc, Spina,” said Lipton as he approached the hole they were sitting in.

“Evening Sergeant,” said Doc. He spun himself around and stood up to properly greet him. “What can we do for you, sir?”

“Lieutenant Dike didn’t come this way did he?” Doc and Spina looked at each other and shook their heads.

“Sorry Lip,” said Spina. “Haven’t seen him at all.” Lipton let out a sigh of annoyance but held it together in front of the medics.

“Alright,” said Lipton. “Thank you anyways, boys. Try to stay warm alright?”

“Good luck trying to find the Lieutenant, sarge,” said Doc. Lipton stuck his tongue inside one of his cheeks and let out another sigh.

“Trust me, Doc,” he said. “I’m gonna need all the luck I can get.”

Where’s Dike? A question that Doc and the other soldiers have heard probably about a thousand times now. Doc maybe asked himself that question a few times, only whenever he needed to scrounge for supplies. If there was one thing Doc hated more than not having enough supplies, it was unreliable people. He witnessed it during basic training for the war with Sobel and continued to see it with Dike. That was one of the things that terrified him the most: Dike was supposed to be leading these men that have been together for over two years now, except he was the worst when it came to making a decision, which could result in a lot of good men possibly getting killed,, something Doc had seen far too often.

“I’m gonna go stretch my legs for a bit, Ralph,” said Doc.

“Hell maybe you’ll find Lieutenant Dike whilst you’re on your walk,” said Spina. Doc shrugged his shoulders and fixed his satchel. He made a face like he had just eaten a lemon that was a little too ripe and shook his head.

“Doubt it,” said Doc. “That’s the last person I need to look for, but I’ll keep my eyes peeled.”

“Alright,” said Spina. “See you later, Gene.” Doc nodded towards his friend as he went deeper into the woods.

***

“I’m telling you boys, we’re screwed,” said Guarnere. Several of the soldiers sat in small groups clustered around their holes, the snow falling much heavier in the dark shivering or adjusting their scarves.

“If you ask me, I’m glad Lieutenant Dike’s never around,” said Penkala.

“Hey, you know what?” said Malarkey, trying to cheer up the others as best he could. “We’re doing alright, even with Foxhole Norman.”

“Yeah, Don, we’re doing alright,” replied Guarnere. “We’re doing alright now. In case you ain’t noticed, there’s a little town down the hill over there, right? And in that town are these guys, and these guys are called ‘Germans.’ These Germans got tanks.”

“I know!” exclaimed Malarkey.

“Yeah!” said Guarnere. “And our side’s gonna want to go into that town. Wanna take a guess who they’re gonna want to go knocking on their goddamn doors?”

“I know, Bill, alright? It’s me you’re talking to here,” said Malarkey. Guarnere shook his head slowly and shoved his hands under his armpits.

“Jesus Christ! We gotta do all this with a CO who’s got his head so far up his fucking ass, that lump in his throat is his goddamn nose!”

Doc zipped up the front of his jacket all the way up to his throat and buried his nose into it. His fingers fumbled for his gloves deep inside of his pockets, his fingers brushing over the headscarf and his grandmother’s ring. He took it out of his pocket and held it in the palm of his hand. When she passed, his mother kept the ring in a small velvet box in her bedroom in her jewelry box. He remembered the day he was drafted and how emotional it was for everyone in his family, especially for his siblings and his mother.

_“Mama?”_ he remembered himself saying. He knocked on the half open bedroom door and saw his mother with her back towards him, holding the small box in her hands. He wore a button up shirt and slacks, his sleeves were rolled up as he stuck his hands into his pockets.

_“You can come in, Eugene,”_ said his mother softly. Doc was about to open his mouth to speak but his mother had beat him to it. _“You’re leaving soon, aren’t you mon fils?”_ Doc nodded his head quietly and held his hands together in front of him.

_“Shortly. Yeah,”_ he replied. His mother continued looking down at the ring in the box. She motioned for her third child to come in further. She took the ring out of the box and placed it into her son’s hand.

_“Take this with you, Eugene,”_ she said quietly as she held back tears. _“Your grandmother--she wanted you to have this. That way, you know she’s always with you.”_ Doc closed his fingers around the ring like he was making a shield out of it. He made his lips into a thin line like he was holding back his own tears. He took a deep breath and nodded his head.

_“I’ll keep it safe, mama. I promise,”_ he said. He remembered his mother pulling him into a long hug as tears fell from her eyes.

_“Just come home safely,”_ she said in a tone that was barely audible. _“Be careful over there. Please. We love you.”_ Doc tightened his grip around his mother and returned the hug and shut his eyes quickly.

_“I love you too, mama.”_

Doc brought himself out of his thoughts and sighed sadly. Things would have been much different if Rachel had survived the bombing of the aid station. He would’ve taken her on dates, introduced her to his family, eventually asking for her father’s permission for her hand in marriage. He placed the ring back into his pocket, realizing he was never going to be able to do any of those things. He continued his walk through the woods as he came across another group of soldiers.

“I’m serious,” said Buck. 

“Sure thing, Buck,” said Penkala confidently. “Nothing stupid. We got it. Right?”

“We got it,” said Muck, equally confident.

“Alright, George?” said Buck.

“Nothing stupid, Buck,” promised Luz.

“Yeah…” said Buck a bit warily. He walked away from the small group of soldiers.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” said Penkala. “Who the hell is he talking to? A bunch of morons who volunteered to jump out of a perfectly good airplane. Can you get anymore stupid than that?”

“Probably not,” said Luz with a chuckle. 

“Right,” said Penkala. 

“I swum across the Niagara once,” said Muck proudly.

“Yeah,” said Penkala impressed and with a hint of curiosity.

“I swear. On a bet,” said Muck looking his other friend square in the eye as if to say he’s telling the truth.

“What, in a barrel?” said Luz. Muck let out a soft chuckle and shook his head.

“No,” he replied. “I didn’t go over the falls, George. I swam across the river. Ten miles up from the falls. I tell you that current is damn strong.”

“Oh yeah,” said Penkala as he nodded his head in agreement. He could only imagine how strong the current really was.

“Must have carried me at least two miles before I got across,” said Muck. “But, I got across. Now, personally, I didn’t think it was all that stupid, but my mom, my sister Ruth, they gave me all kinds of hell.”

“Yeah, I bet, Muck,” said Luz.

“So did Faye,” said Muck, a small smiled formed over his lips when he said her name. Even Luz swooned a bit at the girl’s name that came out of Muck’s mouth.

“Ah, sweet Faye Tanner,” he cooed. Luz batted his eyelashes as a cheeky smile formed over his scruffy face.

“Shut it, George,” said Muck.

“Well, they had a point. You’re an idiot,” said Penkala. The three soldiers laughed and continued talking as Doc emerged through the clearing. 

“Well look who finally decided to leave the foxhole, Gene!” joked Luz. Doc suppressed a chuckle as he unzipped his jacket a bit, allowing his neck to breathe.

“How are you guys doing?” he said. “Trying to stay warm and keep your blood flowing?”

“Trying to, Doc,” said Muck. 

“Hey, Doc?” said Penkala. Doc lifted his head up, acknowledging Penkala’s presence. He crouched next to the three men so he was on an equal level with them. “Thanks for fixing my arm for me.” A modest smile crossed over Doc’s lips. Not too often had he heard people thank him for saving their lives, sometimes they were in too much pain to even address that. It might not have been much, however it meant a lot to Doc knowing he was still doing alright.

“Just doing my job, Penkala,” he said humbly. 

“I’m serious!” said Penkala. “If you hadn’t shown up, I think I would’ve been done for!” Doc let out a soft chuckle as he shifted his weight from each foot to prevent them from falling asleep.

“Quick thinking y’know?” replied Doc. “That’s all there is to it.”

“Gene, you really do deserve more recognition for your hard work,” said Luz. “You bust your ass and you just show up even though we have no idea how the hell you do it!” 

“That’s real nice of you, George,” said Doc. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

“Hey, I bet your girl’s real proud of you,” said Muck. Doc looked down at the ground again and swallowed a lump that had formed in his throat. Eventually, he told the others he had a girl, however he refused to tell them what happened to her. 

“Yeah--yeah. She’s--she’s proud alright,” he said softly. Doc hated lying to people, especially to himself. Though the guys were respectable about Rachel, he didn’t want to keep bringing up her death to anyone who asked. He didn’t want to cry anymore today for he had already wasted enough tears on something that could never be changed, no matter how badly he wanted it to.

***

**03 January 1945: Ardennes Forest, Bois Jacques: 76 miles away from Foy, Belgium**

Easy Company had moved back to their old position overlooking the town of Foy. The Germans had been busy pounding the old foxholes for there wasn't as much cover the Easy men had before. Several remnants of pine trees littered the ground with needles, half of stumps, fallen branches and signs of tree bursts everywhere. Doc was glad to be moving more than a few feet from his hole to get the blood moving again. Suddenly, a pungent odor tickled his nose and nearly made him gag. 

Doc scrunched his nose in disgust, his eyes watered as the odor ran rampant. He took out Rachel’s headscarf and blocked out the stench wondering what or where on earth the smell was coming from. He didn’t have to wait for an answer for long.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me!” exclaimed Toye, looking more angry than usual. He looked down at his boots and found the source of the foul stench. “Someone’s gonna die. Someone’s gonna fucking die! Guarno, look at this shit! One of those 1st Battalion fuckers took a dump in my foxhole!”

“Think they shit in everyone’s foxhole, Joe,” said Guarnere, equally disgusted. “I don’t think they wanted to spend too much time above ground.” Doc hid a smile behind the blue fabric in front of his mouth. Least whoever had his hole last was courteous enough to clean up after themselves, unlike the others. He held back a chuckle as he grabbed loose branches to strengthen his cover. Doc tucked the headscarf back into his pocket, the smell of pine needles much more welcoming than the putrid odor of shit.

“Jesus Christ give me some air!” cried Spina. He tried to breathe through his mouth instead of his nose to try to forget about the disgusting smell as Doc chuckled. “Hey what’s so funny?”

“Can’t breathe, Spina?” said Doc trying not to laugh.

“No,” said Spina flatly. Doc shook his head and laughed as he grabbed a handful of tree branches. He placed them neatly around his hole, sometimes weaving them to hold the branches into place. Doc glanced over his shoulder at the town of Foy. Without the trees blocking it, he could see Easy Company now had a straight shot to get through. He could see several enemy troops dressed head to toe in white except he couldn’t see any signs of their artillery, though he knew it was down there.

“Looks like the Krauts have been pounding this area with pretty big stuff; 88s,” said Lipton. “I’d say they got this whole stretch of the line targeted.”

“Well, they’re not shelling now,” said another soldier. “Maybe they’ve got a new target.”

“No. They’re just waiting,” said Lipton. 

“For what?”

“For us to re-occupy the position,” said Buck. 

“Maybe we should fall back to a different location, dig in?” said the soldier.

“No, it’s our job to hold the line here,” said Lipton. “We got pretty good foxholes, we just need to fortify our covers.”

Doc could hear the debate happening from where he was. He blocked out the sounds as he continued focusing on adding more cover to his hole. 

“Hey, Gene I’ll get you some more branches for your hole,” said Spina.

“Thanks, Ralph. Much appreciated,” said Doc. Before Spina could go much further, an artillery cannon shot off in the distance. Doc and Spina turned their heads quickly to see where the shell was going to hit.

“Incoming!” cried Lipton. “Take cover!” Doc and Spina looked up towards the sky to see a large artillery shell hurtling straight towards them.

“Go! Come on, Spina!” yelled Doc. He grabbed his friend’s wrist as they started sprinting away from the onslaught of artillery. 

“Take cover!” yelled Buck. Several of the soldiers fled from the bursts, some getting knocked into their holes by getting too close to an explosion. 

“Take cover! Come on, find some cover!” called Lipton. He leapt through the air over tree branches and rolled into a foxhole. The Germans kept pounding the Toccoa troops as trees exploded like fireworks on the 4th of July.

Doc and Spina continued running through the smog, ducking their heads several times to avoid getting pierced by a splintered tree. The smoke was getting thicker, making it impossible for Doc and Spina to see where they were going. They leapt over fallen trees and rolled on the ground a couple of times to avoid a tree that could have crushed them. The two medics got up again as more trees exploded around them from perhaps the most awesome and terrifying display of firepower they had both seen.

“Gene!” cried Spina. 

“Move it, Ralph! Come on!” cried Doc. They jumped into a nearby foxhole, quickly grabbing their helmets before they rolled off of their heads. Spina placed his hands over his ears to block out the shelling as Doc raised his arms in front of himself to protect his face. “Stay down! Stay down!”

“Come on, find some cover! Take cover!” cried Lipton in the distance. Doc shut his eyes tightly. He could feel the heat of the artillery fire around him and could feel several pine needles going down the back of his shirt, poking him and littering the rim of his helmet. The explosions became more consistent as Doc and Spina huddled together, keeping their heads low as more trees fell, nearly landing on top of the hole they were in.

The shelling had subsided for now. Doc and Spina peered their heads over the edge of their foxhole with care, several pine needles falling from the rims of their helmets. 

“You see anybody?” said Doc softly. Spina scanned the area briefly, hesitant to set foot outside of the hole. He shook his head.

“Nothing,” he said. “Should we go check?” Doc shook his head, causing more pine needles to fall from his helmet.

“No,” said Doc. “Wait it out and see what happens.”

Malarkey and Guarnere poked their heads out of their foxhole with the same utmost caution. They propped themselves up with their elbows, still keeping their heads low.

“Maybe we should see if anybody’s hit,” said Malarkey. Guarnere pushed his helmet up slightly.

“Nah, Malark, that’s what they want,” said Guarnere. “Krauts are trying to draw us out in the open.” Lipton crawled out of his hole covered in snow as he ran forward.

“Stay in your foxholes! Stay in your foxholes!” he called out to the soldiers. 

Joe Toye got caught in the artillery blast. He was thrown onto his back like a turtle, his body mass feeling much lighter like he was missing something. His right leg was torn off during the barrage, crimson blood staining the once white snow. He pushed himself up as best he could, however his weight now unevenly distributed.

“I gotta get up…” he whimpered. He tried to force himself to sit up but felt like lead was weighing him down. “I gotta get up…” He grabbed his gun next to him and placed the butt in the snow to steady himself to try and sit up once again. “I gotta get up!” He tried pushing himself up once again but collapsed onto the frozen ground. “I need my helmet!”

***

“You hear that?” said Malarkey. He turned his head upon hearing the faint cries of distress.

“I need help!”

“Is that Joe?” said Guarnere. Malarkey turned his head again to see if he could identify the voice better. 

“Yeah, I think that’s Joe,” he said. 

“Stay,” instructed Guarnere. He stepped up over the side of the hole running towards the sound of Toye’s voice. 

“Stay down! Stay down!” yelled Buck. He waved his hand quickly in a grand gesture to make sure the other soldiers saw it. Lipton ran back towards his hole with another soldier.

“Stay down! Stay in your foxholes!” called Lipton. 

***

Doc and Spina continued to sit patiently in their foxhole, the only sounds were that of Joe Toye whimpering in pain as Bill Guarnere attempted to drag him across to a nearby foxhole. Another voice broke him from his thoughts.

“Help!” cried another voice.

“Spina, you hear that?” said Doc. 

“I don’t hear--”

“Shh!” said Doc. He raised a few fingers up to silence Spina for he did hear another voice that was calling for help. 

“Anyone there?!”

“Now I hear it,” said Spina. “It sounds like Babe!”

“Come on let’s go,” said Doc. He stepped out of the foxhole without hesitation, Spina following shortly behind as the cries of Joe Toye echoed across the decimated battlefield. 

“Hang on, you okay?” called Lipton to Babe. 

“Yeah,” called Babe through the layers of pine trees. Doc and Spina ran towards the sound of the voice calling for help. 

“Sarge who is it?” said Doc.

“Heff! Babe! Come on, get me outta here Gene!” cried Babe. Doc and Spina started to clear away several branches.

“You fellas wanna give us a hand here?” said Doc to the other soldiers. The group quickly made an opening large enough for Babe to fit through to pull him out easier. 

“Come on. Come on!” called Lipton. Babe reached a hand out for someone to pull him free. Doc grabbed one of Babe’s hands, Spina grabbing the other, releasing him from the entanglements. 

“Oh, Jesus! Think I overdid it on the cover of my foxhole?” said Babe. Before anyone could answer, another artillery shell whistled through the air about to hit where the soldiers were standing.

“Incoming!” cried Lipton. 

“Take cover!” cried Doc. Without thinking, he pushed Babe and Spina out of the way of the artillery shell. The three of them sprinted away from the onslaught, only to be separated by the steady pounding of the shells. Doc rolled into a foxhole that was covered by tree branches like he was falling through a ceiling.

“Come on! Come on! Hurry up!” cried Buck. Guarnere was still out in the open dragging a badly wounded Joe Toye under his arms to get him to the foxhole. “Guarno! You’re gonna get bombed! Come on! Come on!” The shelling kept getting closer the more Bill inched himself and Joe away. “Move it, Bill! Move it!”

“Come on, Joe,” said Guarnere. Buck nearly froze in fear seeing how close Guarnere and Toye were. He quickly got out of his foxhole and was about to run out.

“Hold on! I’ll be there! I can help!” called Buck. 

But, before he could step any closer, a bomb landed right where the two soldiers were, covering them in a fiery explosion of orange, yellow and thick smoke.

“No!”

“Medic!”

Doc rolled onto his side and covered his head as the shellings continued. His heart pounded in his chest whether it was out of fear or because of the loud explosions. He began to pray silently to himself. He took the blue headscarf out of his pocket, clutching it against his heart.

_Rachel. Protect me. Give me your strength that you gave to those in the aid station! Please! Hear me, babydoll! I need your help. I need you._ He continued to hold her headscarf against his chest and took deep, steady breaths to calm himself. He opened his eyes and thought of Rachel and her warm smile. Memories flashed before him all at once; the determined look in her brown eyes when she was helping Renée and himself to try and find the artery, the time they kissed in the back room of the aid station, her smile when she tossed him the chocolate bar, the way her hair would blow in the wind slightly and how it wasn’t perfectly curly.

_“It’s alright, Gene,”_ he heard her say. _“We’re together now. It’s just us, sweetheart.”_ Doc shut his eyes fiercely. Tears stung the corners of his eyes from closing them so tightly as they ran down his pale cheeks. He was holding her headscarf so tightly against him, he could almost feel his fingernails leaving indentations on his skin. The second artillery barrage had finally ceased. Doc opened his eyes as the tears dripped off of his cheeks onto the ground. It was silent for now, but the smell of smoke still lingered. Firewood. A smell he loved as a kid.

Doc looked at the blue headscarf he held so tightly in his hands. A small smile crossed over his lips as he threaded it through the spaces in between his fingers, sometimes running his thumbs over it. He brought the fabric up to his lips and kissed it, truly knowing that Rachel wanted him to survive. He had to see the end of the war, for her. He tucked her headscarf safely back into his pocket, praying both Spina and Babe didn’t get hit as he followed the cry for a medic in the distance. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations for French:  
> mon fils: My son


	10. 03 January 1945: Ardennes Forest, Bois Jacques: 76 miles away from Foy, Belgium

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When you get to the exchange between Malarkey and Gene, listen to this:
> 
> Hymn to Brothers Lost- Christopher Lennertz (From Medal of Honor Rising Sun):https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FVKkPK6ZrQE&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=32&t=0s The beginning works the best for that moment.

“Me-Medic!” Doc quickly ran to the scene to who called for a medic. He emerged through the trees as snow started to fall. It didn’t take him long until he saw a long trail of blood staining the snow. He pushed his way through the fallen trees to see how bad the damage was.

“Stay ready! Stay ready! Those stupid sons of bitches might be trying to come through!”called Lipton. Doc came into better view and saw Toye attempting to sit up, his other elbow pushing against the snow to try to get himself to be fully propped up. Doc saw his right leg not that far from where he was seated. He knelt down onto the snow and immediately went to work.

“Okay, Joe…” he said calmly. Doc reached his hand inside of Toye’s stub to grab whatever was left of the artery to close it up before wrapping several bandages around it. Malarkey stepped slowly towards the two soldiers in disbelief, like a thin veil had covered his head, unable to process if Toye and Guarnere getting hit were real images or not.

“Doc, what can I do?” said Malarkey. Doc handed him another roll of bandages as Malarkey helped Toye to sit up better.

“Hold this.”

“You got a smoke?” said Toye grimacing, but not as badly as before since he knew Doc was taking care of him. 

“Yeah,” said Malarkey. He took out his pack of Lucky Strikes from his coat pocket and took one out of it.

“Jesus. What’s a guy gotta do to get killed around here?” said Toye. Malarkey stuck the cigarette into Joe’s mouth and lit it for him. Doc unraveled another clean set of bandages and draped it across his leg and looked over at Guarnere who was propped up against a tree like a rag doll.

“Bill, you’re going first.” said Doc still just as calm and patient as before. Guarnere shook his head and looked down at what was left of his right leg, only a small sliver of skin was hanging off with his boot still attached.

“Whatever you say, Doc. Whatever you say,” he sighed. A couple of other soldiers carried stretchers as Doc flagged them down.

“Over here! Take this man,” he said. The soldiers laid the stretchers down onto the ground and lifted Guarnere carefully. They draped a blanket over him to keep him warm.

“Hey, Lip, they got old Guarnere this time,” said Guarnere. He glanced over at Joe as Doc was helping to lift him onto the second stretcher. “Hey, Joe, I told you I’d beat you back to the States.” The soldiers carried the wounded men off of the battlefield as Doc cleaned up his supplies. Lipton pat him on the back of his shoulder for another job well done.

“Thanks, Doc,” he said. 

“Just doing my job, Lip,” said Doc softly. “Sarge, did you see Spina or Heffron during the second artillery barrage?” Lipton shook his head. He slung his weapon over his shoulder and fixed his scarf.

“Sorry, Doc. I haven’t,” he replied. “Last I saw them, they were with you.” Doc bit the inside of his lower lip and shifted his gaze sideways for that wasn’t the exact response he was looking for.

“Thank you, sir,” said Doc. He glanced over at Buck. He held his head in his hands, hiding his face as he ran his fingers through his matted pale blonde locks, a sinking feeling formed in Doc’s chest. It reminded him of how he probably looked when he was grieving over Rachel.

“Hey, Lip, Gene,” said Luz. He jogged over to where the two soldiers were standing.

“How’s Buck?” said Lipton. Luz didn’t respond. He continued to stare at where Buck was seated. “Luz!” The comedian brought himself back to reality and turned towards Lipton. “How’s Buck?” Luz turned back over his shoulder to see if anything had changed.

“He’s fine,” said Luz. Lipton glanced in the same direction and raised one of his eyebrows in suspicion. 

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” replied Luz. “He’s fine.”

“I think one of you fellas should go talk to him now, huh?” suggested Doc. He pat Luz and Lipton on the side of their shoulders as they nodded their heads to see what was wrong with Buck.

***

Doc sat against a pine tree later that same evening. He took a cigarette from his packet and lit it. He held the cigarette in between his fingers and pushed his helmet up with the heel of his hand. Several hours had passed. He tried to take his mind off of where Spina and Babe could be, praying they weren't dead. Praying. He wasn’t sure if that was the right word he would use for those kinds of situations anymore. Wish. Hope. Plead. All those words didn’t make any difference to him now for they all meant the same thing: empty.

He was beginning to feel that way for several months now, his thousand yard stare becoming more and more frequent. Doc was certain that it had started much earlier during the war, but it wasn’t as noticeable. His mind flashed through the several times he had faced and seen death or people almost die so far during the war.

Normandy; the paratrooper he saw hanging by his wires from a tree. Carentan; when he was bandaging a soldier’s head. Tipper. Perhaps the first time he really saw someone get mangled by an artillery explosion. Blithe getting shot in the neck. Market Garden; the German artillery too overpowering for Easy Company. Blood running cold over the caterpillar tracks of the Panzers to show someone wasn’t quick enough to get away, how he injured himself on the barbed wire. Now the Bulge; the deaths didn’t stop. His pain and suffering had continued: the man who bled out from his stomach in the aid station because he couldn’t find the artery, the aid station being destroyed, Renée. Hoobler. Rachel. His chest tightened when he thought of her name. Rachel. The girl who shared in his struggles, gave him more hope and courage. Rachel. The girl he loved but was too late to say anything. Several names and faces that all were growing casualties because he was too late to save them. Doc took a long drag of his cigarette to numb the pain that would never truly go away. 

***

Babe and Spina began their trek back through the forest to where the other soldiers were gathered. It began snowing heavier, but not so much that it could block their vision. They could hear several familiar voices, some laughing, some talking, knowing they had come back to the right place.

“Where the hell is Gene, huh?” said Babe. 

“Wasn’t he with you during the barrage?” said Spina.

“I thought he was with you!”

“Jesus, if we lost our best medic---

“Found him,” said Babe. Spina was about to ask where but Babe turned him in the right direction. They found him standing by the same tree. He held his cigarette in between his fingers, sometimes taking another long drag of it. 

“Hey! Gene!” called Spina. Doc turned his head upon hearing his name. The heaviness he felt in his chest had dissipated, seeing his two closest friends alive. Doc stepped away from the tree and extinguished his cigarette, jogging over to them.

“The hell have you two been, huh?” he beamed.

“We were just about to ask you the same thing!” chuckled Spina. Doc hugged each one of them individually, both a little taken aback from his affectionate gesture, but didn’t think much of it and returned the hug, since they were both still a bit shaken up from the shelling from earlier.

“Nice to see you two still in one piece,” said Doc.

“How bad of casualties did we get?” asked Spina. Doc shoved his hands into his coat pockets and let out a deep breath, his breath swirling in the cold making a small cloud in front of him.

“Couple,” said Doc.

“Who?” said Babe. Doc licked his chapped lips and looked down at the ground, afraid as to how Babe was going to react to the next words that came out of his mouth. “Gene! Who were they?!”

“Guarnere and Toye,” said Doc softly. Babe’s pale face grew even paler, almost a sickly white color, like a phantom.

“Wh--what happened to Bill?” said Babe, trying to mask the fear in his voice. 

“Right leg got blown off,” said Doc. “So did Toye.” Babe felt a large weight leave his shoulders. He nearly fell backwards, luckily Spina caught him and sat him down to get his head back in order. “They’re both on their way back to the States right now.” Babe didn’t know what to make of what Doc just told him. He was glad his best friend was safe, but felt empty knowing he’d no longer have his combat buddy next to him. He couldn’t get any words to form. He merely nodded his head.

“Thanks, Gene,” he said quietly. “I--I appreciate you telling me that.” Babe took a moment to let the words resonate in his mind. “Did we lose anyone else?”

“Our potential replacement for a CO,” said Doc. “Buck.”

“Is he alright?” said Spina. Doc shook his head and looked at the snowy ground.

“They had to take him off the line,” he replied. 

“What? Why?” said Spina and Babe not in sync with each other.

“Bad case of trench foot,” said Doc. “Or that’s what they say. I think it’s because he couldn’t handle seeing Toye and Guarnere get all torn up like that.”

“Jesus,” said Babe under his breath. “So we’re stuck with Foxhole Norman for this impending assault on Foy then?”

“I’m afraid so,” said Doc. He bit the inside of his cheek, a rust taste formed inside of his mouth. Doc was lucky he didn’t have to go searching for Lieutenant Dike as often as the other soldiers had to. It still didn’t take away from the fact of how much he didn’t like their new CO. He bit his lower lip and looked down towards the ground, a sinking feeling formed in his stomach. He knew how incompetent Dike was, which frightened him. He already knew what was gonna happen, the sinking feeling making his stomach twist into knots: a lot of good Toccoa men were gonna get killed.

***

“You fellas know I got no reason to bullshit you, right?” said Luz. Skip Muck held back a chuckle, which sounded like a snort instead.

“Yeah, right,” he said.

“Okay, I’m not gonna bullshit you,” said Luz. “This is what I saw. You-know-who comes running up to Lipton. He’s got no helmet, no gear, no nothing.” He cleared his throat, thinking of how the lieutenant sounded. “1st Sgt. Lipton, you organize things here, I’m gonna go for help.” The other soldiers snickered at Luz’s spot on impression of Dike. “I need to go polish my Oak leaf clusters.”

“Hey, Luz,” said Lipton. He motioned for Luz to come and talk to him away from the others. Muck and Malarkey chuckled, still thinking about how great the impression was.

“Complete asshole,” said Muck.

“That was really good,” said Malarkey. Luz smiled broadly as he placed his hands onto his hips.

“You know, fellas,” he said proudly. Malarkey yawned and started to make his way back towards his foxhole, Muck following close behind

“Good night, all,” he said. 

“Yeah, see you, Luz,” said Muck. He waved to Luz before he and Malarkey went further into the woods. “See you, Malark.” Luz jogged over to Lipton to see what he wanted.

“What can I do for you, sarge?” said Luz.

“Two things,” said Lipton. “First, great impression of Dike.” Luz scratched the back of his head and smiled humbly.

“You think so? I thought it was a little off.”

“Nah, you got it pretty good,” said Lipton with a smile. 

“Yeah?” beamed Luz. 

“Second, don’t do it anymore,” said Lipton. “Especially about the part what he said to me. It doesn’t do anybody any good, okay?” Luz nodded his head in understanding.

“Yeah I got you.” Lipton pat Luz on the back of his shoulder.

“Alright,” said Lipton. Luz started walking away and fake yawned, like Lieutenant Dike, getting another chuckle out of Lipton. “Wiseass.” Luz chuckled in response as he took one last puff of his cigarette before flicking it over his shoulder. As soon as he did that, another round of artillery fire started up again. Luz quickly ran away upon hearing the explosion. Muck and Penkala turned around quickly, several artillery shell bursts exploding at once as they ran for cover in their foxhole.

“Incoming!” cried a soldier. Luz continued to run away from the scene of the attack, resulting in him tripping, his helmet falling off his his head. 

The barrages continued to get worse as several soldiers dove for whatever cover they could find. Doc, Babe and Spina ran to the nearest foxhole and jumped in, the three of them huddling together as the barrages kept pounding the ground. All three of them could hear the shouts from other soldiers, urging others to jump into their foxholes, including Muck and Penkala’s.

“Luz! Come on! Come on! Hurry! Luz!” cried Muck. 

“Move!” cried Penkala. Luz tripped twice on the snow and crawled towards his two friends as quickly as he could push himself to.

“Luz!” He attempted to stand himself up again as more explosions burst, illuminating the trees like it was lightning. 

“Stay down! Come on! Get in!”

“Come on, Luz! Come on! Move!”

“Come on! Luz---” Luz froze in his tracks after witnessing a horrific scene. He was lucky he didn’t get into the same hole as Muck and Penkala for a large shell killed them in one hit, leaving no trace of either one of them behind. Luz continued crawling away from it as the shelling continued. He felt something warm trailing down the side of his face, something red and liquidy. He didn’t care for he crawled into the nearest foxhole where Sgt. Lipton was. 

“Luz!” cried Lipton. He grabbed him and held him tightly like he was his own son. 

“Muck and Penkala!” cried Luz

“What?”

“Muck and Penkala got hit!” Lipton and Luz continued to hold each other for protection as a shell landed in their foxhole. The two men froze seeing the smoke coming from the shell, waiting for it to explode at any second. To their surprise it didn’t. Luz took a Lucky Strike cigarette out of his uniform pocket, shakily bringing it up to his lips and lighting it. He took a long drag, his body relaxing shortly afterwards, his eyelids drooping and rested his head against the foxhole.

Lipton took the cigarette from Luz’s mouth with shaky fingers, placing it into his own, taking his first taste of tobacco.

“I thought you didn’t smoke,” said Luz. Lipton glanced over at Luz, holding the cigarette in between his fingers.

“I don’t,” he replied. 

“Uh-huh…”

***

The soldiers had moved back to their old position overlooking the town of Foy again. The shell that hit Luz and Lipton’s shell was a dud. Doc had finished tending to the wounded soldiers. He got up and went to see if anyone else needed his assistance and meandered his way back towards his own hole. Suddenly, his eye catch something that glinted in the faint light of the day.

Doc approached the foxhole carefully to see what the object was. He reached down and pulled the object out from the soot. He blew off the dust to see a black necklace with a cross hanging off of it: rosary beads, the exact same beads that Muck used to carry with him. Doc remembered the night of the drop before before D-Day. He remembered Muck holding it in his hand, the cross swinging back and forth like a pendulum on a clock. Doc cradled the remaining pieces of the rosary into his hand before tucking it safely away into his pocket, biting the inside of his cheek thinking about Don Malarkey.

Doc would see the three of them together all the time ever since the start of training. Muck, Malarkey and Penkala were best friends, so close and inseparable someone could have easily mistaken them for brothers. In less than a week, he had seen both of them die, the only thing that was left of both of them was a set of broken rosary beads, each representing a life that had been lost to the pains of war. 

“Hey Malark,” said Lipton gently. Malarkey didn’t acknowledge Lipton’s presence. He continued to stare blankly out in front of him thousands of yards away. “Hey, didn’t I hear you say you wanted to bring a Luger home for your kid brother?”

“Yeah,” said Malarkey softly. Lipton took the Luger out of his pocket, holding it in both hands out in front of him.

“Well, why don’t you give him that,” said Lipton. Malarkey looked at the weapon that had killed a comrade cautiously before taking it into his own.

“It’s Hoob’s, right?” said Malarkey.

“Yeah...I was--I was gonna get rid of it, but I don’t know,” said Lipton. “Listen, uh, Captain Winters was wondering if you wanted to go back to Battalion HQ and work as his runner for a few days.” Malarkey thought for a moment before making his decision. He looked at Lipton, then back to the Luger.

“Tell him thanks,” he said quietly. “I’m---I’m gonna stay here.”

“Well, look, why don’t you at least come back for an hour or so, say goodbye to Buck?” suggested Lipton. “I’m sure it’ll mean a lot to him.” Malarkey's lips twitched into a sad smile.

“Alright,” he said. Lipton gripped Malarkey’s shoulder as if to express his sympathy.

“You be careful with that alright?” said Lipton. He disappeared into the woods to where the other soldiers were gathering. Doc hung back next to a tree. He licked his dry lips and stepped towards Malarkey.

“Don?” said Doc softly. Malarkey turned his scruffy face in the medic’s general direction. His brown eyes looked so tired and so broken, like glass that had been left in a cabinet for several years, looking like they were about to break even more. A heavy pain grew in Doc’s chest but he reached into his uniform pocket and took out the rosary beads. Malarkey took them, his hand shaking slightly. He bit his lower lip as he sucked back tears. Doc took his helmet off of his head and held it against his chest, the snowflakes catching on his raven locks. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, Gene,” said Malarkey hoarsely. He cleared his throat and wiped his tears away. “Once that shell hits---it hits---” Doc bit his lower lip and looked at Malarkey with concern. His chest tightened into a knot. That was exactly how he felt when he was trying to comprehend losing Rachel. Doc cleared his throat and knelt down to Malarkey’s level.

“You gonna be okay, Don?” said Doc gently. Malarkey nodded his head slowly.

“Yeah,” said Malarkey hoarsely again. He cleared his throat again to recollect his thoughts. “Yeah I’m--Thanks, Gene. I’m fine.”

The two soldiers gave each other a look. It didn’t say much but they could see it in each other’s eyes, a look that said: _I know._


	11. 12 January 1945: Ardennes Forest, Bois Jacques: 76 miles away from Foy, Belgium

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For this chapter:
> 
> 1\. Brothers in Arms: Earned in Blood Soundtrack- Sad-David McGarry: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Og3mh6g4Tyw&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=32
> 
> 2\. Battle of the Bulge- Christopher Lennertz (From Medal of Honor European Assault): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a_ERfQCP5UM&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=33
> 
> 3\. Company of Heroes 2: The Western Front Armies Soundtrack 03-Cris Velasco https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ml05y5qNrh8&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=34 (For when Winters tells Dike the plan for the assault)
> 
> 4\. Company of Heroes 2: The Western Front Armies Soundtrack 11- Cris Velasco https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YiE3TC9tRdY&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=35 (When the assault on Foy begins.)
> 
> 5\. The Rhine- Wilbert Roget II (From Call of Duty: WWII) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MSNN0eR00qM&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=36 (1:16 Doc makes a risky decision)
> 
> 6\. Russia, 1942-Christopher Lennertz (From Medal of Honor European Assault) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MSNN0eR00qM&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=36 (Aka when Speirs takes control and everyone gets back up on their feet)
> 
> 7\. Medal of Honor Vanguard Main Theme-Michael Giacchino (From Medal of Honor Vanguard) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WPB42V8XUzc&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=38
> 
> 8\. Victory- David McGarry (From Brothers in Arms: Earned in Blood) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=crkS794LmjU&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=39 (After Shifty Takes out the sniper and the soldiers resume celebrating)
> 
> 9\. Plaisir d'amour- Michael Kamen (From Band of Brothers) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uVR5--1etxM&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=40 (When Easy is in the Convent at Rachamps, but y'all knew that already.)

Puffy white snowflakes fell from the darkened sky gently. Doc wrapped his army issued blanket around himself to block out the cold, though now he felt he was becoming more immune to it the longer he stayed outside. He rested his head against the side of his hole, unable to bring himself to shut his eyes. He still thought about the first shelling, how he had seen Rachel’s image in the explosions. He could almost hear her voice as clear as it was, but he wasn’t sure if it was his mind playing tricks on him, Rachel’s spirit or some other form of divine intervention. What he knew was he had managed to survive all three shellings somehow. It still didn’t distract him from what was going to happen tomorrow.

After another day of inactivity from the Germans, Doc could see the fear and boredom hiding behind every man’s eyes. He had seen it take its toll on a few men and how quickly it spread. Some attempted to dig foxholes with their bare hands, some not even realizing that they had torn off all their fingernails, others holding their knees to their chests and shaking like they were suffering from a bad cold. Doc was lucky he had some things to keep his hands and mind busy. Sometimes, he would walk away from his hole for a bit to He reached into the pocket containing his grandmother’s ring, running his fingers over the small metal band and smooth gemstones inside of it. His fingers pinched the corner of Rachel’s headscarf like they normally did, now becoming a better coping mechanism rather than smoking.

He could feel it. Everyone could feel it. Tension and fear was high for the upcoming assault on Foy tomorrow morning. There was no denying it: Dike was an empty uniform who wasn’t fully there mentally. Doc became more anxious the more he thought about tomorrow. Several of these men he had come to know since Camp Toccoa. He felt his stomach sinking lower, almost like it was twisting itself into knots. Doc cupped his hands around his mouth and blew into them to keep them warm, trying not to let the thought disturb him too much.

Giving up on sleep, Doc sat on the edge of his foxhole and wrapped the blanket around his shoulders like it was a cloak. He stared towards the ground, pulling the blanket around him tighter and hugged himself as the snowflakes rolled off of his helmet and collected around the rim. Spina and Babe were carrying cups of coffee, looking just as cold as Doc was. They were chatting amongst themselves until they saw Doc sitting outside of his foxhole, his shoulders drooping and his gaze downward.

“Gene?” said Spina. Doc said nothing. He kept his gaze down towards the ground. Babe and Spina gave each other a look of concern. The thousand yard-stare was becoming more and more frequent everyday. Babe let out a deep breath, wrapping his fingers around the cup as he lowered it into Doc’s hands. His fingers twitched feeling the warmth giving life back to his cold fingers. 

Spina and Babe looked at each other again, seeing Doc had barely interacted with the cup. The two boys sat down next to Doc, Spina placing a hand on his shoulder to let him know he had people in his presence. Doc curled his blanketed hands around the cup, taking a small sip, his body becoming more accustomed to the warm liquid going down the back of his parched throat.

“Thank you,” he managed to whisper. Doc was about to hand his cup back over to Babe, except Babe placed his hand up to stop him.

“It’s yours to keep, Gene,” said Babe. “A frozen ass and a frozen medic ain’t gonna do anybody good.” Doc took another sip of the coffee before holding it in his hands. He licked his chapped lips, pursing them together like he normally did when he was worried about something.

“Lotta good men are gonna get killed tomorrow,” said Doc softly. He sighed before taking another sip of coffee, running his fingers over the outside of his cup

“Tell me about it,” said Babe under his breath. Though he hadn’t been with the Toccoa troopers as long as Doc, he knew how bad Dike was. Babe had already lost two of his best friends, the thoughts still keeping him up at night. 

“I’m serious, Heffron,” said Doc sternly. He looked back down at the cup in his hands. He took a deep breath getting his thoughts together again before thinking about his tone of voice. “You got any idea how much men are gonna get killed because of Dike’s incompetence?” Doc rested his elbow on top of his kneecap, his knuckles pressed against the side of his cheek as he looked at the snow covered ground glumly. 

“I don’t like it anymore than you do, Gene,” said Spina. “But there’s one thing you can be sure of. Babe and I, we’re gonna be right by your side.” Spina gripped Doc’s shoulder firmly and looked into his war weary blue eyes. “That I promise you, my friend.”

“Spina’s right, Gene,” said Babe. “Come hell or high water, Dike’s incompetence isn’t gonna make us run for the hills. The Battered Bastards of Bastogne gotta stick together.”

“Try not to think about it too much,” said Spina. “But for now, the best thing all of us should do is get some sleep. Fatigued soldiers ain’t gonna do any good for anybody.”

***

**13 January 1945, Ardennes Forest: The Assault on Foy**

The soldiers were finishing with their final preparations before heading out onto the battlefield to begin the assault. Winters sat next to Dike with a map spread out across their legs, laying out the plan of attack. Doc tugged on his fingerless gloves, extending his fingers then closing them into tight fists. He was restless. Last night didn’t help him either. He kept waking up every few moments, jolting himself awake and unable to fall back to sleep. Eventually, he was able to close his eyes but he still felt drained. He prayed his performance wasn’t going to be affected badly.

“Clear?” said Winters looking at Dike, hoping he understood the plan.

“Clear,” replied Dike. He gave Winters a smile hoping it would mask his own fear. Winters folded the map back up and tucked it inside of his trench coat.

“I’m relying on you,” he said with authority. “Get it done.” He stood up leaving Dike to himself. The lieutenant stared out across the open field and yawned. He punched his other hand into his palm.

The soldiers raced across the open field with Lipton at the helm charging with 2nd Platoon. Doc watched from the sidelines running his fingers over Rachel’s headscarf to calm his nerves. He couldn’t see much of the action, however he could hear the chorus of shouts and the symphony of gunfire and artillery. 

“Let’s go! Keep it moving!” cried Lipton. 

“Suppressing fire!”

“Keep moving! Let’s go! Let’s go!” encouraged Lipton. The shells struck close to the ground, blackening the snow and forming craters.

_“Feuer!”_ cried a German soldier. Another round of shelling struck close to the soldiers. Doc felt his heart almost leap out of his chest. Seeing how spread out the soldiers were, there was little to no cover, especially from how slowly Dike was moving than from the rest of the group. He looked even more lost like a child who had separated from his parents wondering where they had went.

“Keep them tight, Shames!” called Dike. Just watching the soldiers in their spread out positions made the hairs on the back of Doc’s neck stand up. Several shells had gotten close to a lot of the soldiers. His palms began to feel clammy despite how frigid the air was around him. Doc curled Rachel’s head scarf around his palms, clutching it tightly against his chest. He could feel his nails digging into the heels of his hands.

“Keep moving!” called Lipton. Suddenly, a group of German soldiers began running out onto the field towards the spread out soldiers. 

“Krauts in the open!”

“Keep moving! Keep moving!” cried Foley. Several of the soldiers positioned themselves behind a wagon wheel or a hay bale for a brief moment of cover to get their bearings straight before getting up to move again. 

“Three inside,” said Liebgott. Lieutenant Dike stopped short and began scanning the area, amidst the bullets that soared across the plain. He kept his weapon lowered to the ground giving him a poor defense.

“Wait a minute, wait a minute. Where’s Foley?” called Dike.

“Randleman! Liebgott!” called Foley from the opposite side of the field. Dike continued to look around and stopped giving orders completely for he had lost half of his soldiers and didn’t know where they went.

“Where the hell is 1st Platoon?” cried Dike. “Hold up!”

“Keep moving!” cried Lipton.

“Easy Company! Hold up!” yelled Dike. He waved his arms above his head to get everyone to stop moving. Lipton took a knee and raised two fingers motioning for the rest of 2nd Platoon to follow suit.

“2nd Platoon! Hold up! Hold up!” called Lipton.

_Dike what the hell are you doing?!_ thought Doc. He stood up and was about to rush out to take charge himself if he had to but Spina stopped him from making the rash decision. Doc sucked on the inside of his cheek and held his hands behind his head in exasperation. He drew his hands together in front of his nose and rubbed near his sinuses before drawing them down his face slowly. _Jesus Christ move goddamnit!!_

“Will you move!” yelled Winters. Dike, still frozen with fear had to make a decision and fast, only causing more stress to himself and to the other soldiers in Easy. He turned to Luz.

“Get me Foley on the radio,” he said trying to stay calm.

“Get out of there! Move!” cried Winters once again. 

Doc could see and feel Winters’ anxiousness. He wanted to run out and lead his old company into battle. The assault was taking much longer than he had anticipated. He needed to get Easy out of there somehow. Doc’s anxiousness grew more. He fumbled with Rachel’s head scarf, praying there was going to be a solution that would come sooner rather than later, or else he was going to rush out and lead the men himself if the situation grew more dire. Suddenly, more rounds of artillery disrupted his thoughts, scattering the soldiers even more.

“Find some cover! Find some cover!” cried Lipton. 2nd Platoon rushed towards a large hay bale for cover, Luz and Dike still out in the open.

“What?” said Dike to make sure he wasn’t hearing things. An artillery shell exploded behind Luz and Dike causing them to take temporary cover on the ground as Luz took the phone off of his radio and tuned into Perconte.

“Easy Red, Easy Red. Easy. Six over,” said Luz.

“Six, Easy Red,” said Perconte from the other side. “Go ahead.”

“Easy Red, Easy Red. Stand by for the Six,” said Luz. Dike swiped the phone away from Luz’s hands in a fury after he tossed his helmet to the ground.

“Foley! Foley, you get back here where I can see you, goddamnit!” cried Dike. 

_“Feuer!”_ cried another German soldier. They ducked their heads as they fired another artillery shell towards the scattered Easy Company troopers.

“Fall back! Fall back!” cried Dike. 

“Goddamnit,” said Lipton under his breath.

“Go forward!” cried Winters from the sidelines. Lipton and some of the other soldiers from 2nd Platoon followed close behind him to where Dike was sitting behind a large hay bale. 

“Stay on my ass! Hold fast 2nd Platoon!” called Lipton.

“Follow Lipton! Take cover!” cried the soldier.

Lipton and the other soldiers raced over to Dike who was as white as a sheet and held his uniform collar. The whole world felt like it was spinning in slow motion as several of the soldiers bombarded Dike with several questions.

“What are we doing, lieutenant?” asked Foley.

“Why are we stopped?” demanded Lipton. 

“Fall back! Fall back!” cried Dike in a panic. He looked to the ground quickly then up at the other soldiers. Luz placed his finger in his free ear to hear what Winters was relaying to him better.

“Roger, Kidnap. Stand by for Six,” said Luz. 

“Lieutenant, what’s the plan?!” demanded Foley. 

“I don’t know, I don’t know,” said Dike, like he was very short on breath. His skin paled even more as he began to heave short breaths.

“You better get Dike on that radio, now!” ordered Winters. 

“Lieutenant, what’s the plan?” Luz took the phone away from his ear and held it out towards the shaking lieutenant.

“Captain Winters, sir,” said Luz.

“Give us a plan!”

“Okay, okay,” said Dike trying to calm his frazzled nerves. “Foley. Foley! You take your men--You take your men on a flanking mission around the village and attack it from the rear!”

“We cannot stay here!” cried Lipton. 

“You want 1st Platoon to attack the village by itself?!” exclaimed Foley.

“We will provide suppressing fire,” said Dike, still attempting to stay calm.

“We’re gonna be kind of alone out there, lieutenant,” said Foley warily. 

“We will provide suppressing fire!”

“Get going forward!” cried Winters. 

“You need to talk to Captain Winters, sir,” said Luz as calmly as he could form the words, despite his own agitation growing. 

Doc continued watching the scene unfold. He bit his thumbnails out of frustration. He hated waiting for something to happen before he was needed, but this time, he felt fully immersed in this battle, even though he hadn’t set foot out on the field. The tension was high. Even fumbling with Rachel’s headscarf didn’t help.

_I really could use your reassurance now, babydoll_ he thought. His friends were taking shot after shot but they still weren’t moving forward. Several bullets and artillery shells were getting dangerously close to them. _No. Another man ain’t gonna die cause I wasn’t there in time to help. I already lost Rachel. I ain’t gonna lose anybody else to this fucking thing!_ His hands clenched into tight fists. He didn’t remember when he started moving, but he took long strides towards the open field as he gripped the handle of his shovel, his soft eyes now filled with a fire that had been reignited. He had to help his friends. Spina pulled his gaze from the line when he saw Doc advancing closer towards the battle.

“Gene!” he cried. Spina scrambled from where he was sitting, nearly tripping over his feet. “Gene! What the hell are you doing?!”

“I’m going out there,” said Doc, his voice low and filled with an unusual authority. Spina shook himself from his brief moment of shock and placed his hands against Doc’s chest to try and stop him from going out. 

“Have you lost your mind?!” yelled Spina.

“I gotta get out there, Spina!” cried Doc. He fought against his best friend’s weight as Spina continued to try and push Doc back. “Get off of me!”

“Eugene Roe! You go out there you’re gonna be in deep shit!” cried Spina. “I’m doing this for your own good!”

“I already lost the woman I loved!” cried Doc. “I ain’t gonna let nobody else die!”

“It’s suicide! You don’t have a gun!”

“Don’t need one!” called Doc. He pushed past Spina and was close to getting out towards the battlefield much to Spina and Winters’ horror.

“Roe! Get back here!” cried Winters. 

“Gene don’t do it!” cried Spina. 

“Roe!” Doc didn’t listen as he crawled on the ground as fast as he could trying to get to his friends. Spina couldn’t watch. He couldn’t lose his best friend. He didn’t know whether to praise Doc for his bravery or to scold him for acting irrationally. He needed to get him out of there. Spina couldn’t get himself to move. He wanted to move. He had to. His best friend’s life hung in the balance.

“Spina, get Doc out of there,” said Winters. Spina still kept looking in shock, wonder and horror as Doc kept trying to crawl towards the soldiers. He ducked his head several times or curled into a defensive position to try and protect himself. “Spina! Get Doc out of there, now!” Spina shook himself from his daze, double taking when he heard Winters yell at him. He started running onto the battlefield one of his hands holding the top of his helmet to keep it on his head. He sped up once he got closer to Doc and threw himself on top of him. He hooked his arms underneath Doc’s.

“Spina what the hell are you doing?!” cried Doc.

“Getting you out of this shit show!” called Spina. He started dragging Doc back towards the CP, only to have Doc fight against him.

“Go back Spina!” called Doc.

“No! Captain’s orders!” Suddenly, another round of artillery and gunfire started. Doc and Spina turned their heads sharply towards the town of Foy, their jaws dropping and eyes doubling in size. “Shit!” Spina grabbed one of Doc’s hands and pulled him up quickly.

“Go!” cried Doc. The two medics stumbled over their feet, nearly falling face first into the snow. They threw arms around each other to hold each other up for support as they rushed back to the CP in the nick of time. 

***

Easy Company was still waiting for an order from Dike. They couldn’t stay behind that hay bale forever.

“Sir, we are sitting ducks out here. We have to keep moving!” cried Lipton. 

“You’ve got to keep moving!” cried Winters. His legs felt like lead. He had to get to his troopers. Winters grabbed his rifle and was about to set foot onto the battlefield.

“Dick! Captain Winters!” called Sink. Winters turned on his heel and faced the old colonel. “Goddamnit! You do not go out there! You’re battalion commander now get back here!” Winters bit the inside of his cheek in frustration. “Now, I understand your attachment to Easy Company--”

“Speirs! Get yourself over here!” yelled Winters. Ronald Speirs, the man was already a legend amongst the Toccoa paratroopers. His steely yet authoritative dark brown eyes were alert and ready to address the situation. He was a tall man with a decent and clean amount of scruff on his handsome face. He stood upright but a little relaxed, for he meant serious business. Stories spread amongst the soldiers that he shot one of his own officers for being drunk and was responsible for gunning down 20 German POWs but not before offering them cigarettes, earning him the respective nickname of “Scary Speirs.” 

“Get out there and relieve Dike and take that attack on in.” Without hesitation, Speirs took off down the open field as fast as his long legs could carry him, leaping through the smoke like a gazelle. 

“Lieutenant, what are we doing?” cried a soldier. Dike had completely frozen over, staring a thousand yards ahead of him as Speirs approached the soldiers. He grabbed Dike by the lapels of his uniform firmly.

“I’m taking over,” said Speirs. Dike barely nodded his head as he slumped against the hay bale. “1st Sgt. Lipton.”

“Here!” called Lipton. Speirs crouched down next to Lipton.

“What do we got?”

“Sir, most of the company is spread out here,” explained Lipton. “1st Platoon tried an end-around. They’re stretched out, pinned by a sniper. I believe he’s in the building with a caved in roof.” Speirs took a second to process what Lipton had just informed him of. A plan had formed immediately in his head.

“Alright,” said Speirs. “I want mortars and grenade launchers to that building till it’s gone. When it’s gone, I want 1st to go straight in. Forget about going around. Everybody else, follow me.”

“Yes sir,” said Lipton with relief. He exchanged smiles with Luz for they were both thinking the exact same thing.

“Thank God, huh?” said Luz, a confident smile appeared over his scruffy face. In a matter of seconds, Easy Company was back up and running on their feet, everybody regaining their confidence to finish the mission.

“All right! You heard the word! 2nd Platoon on the CO!” cried Lipton. The mortar squadron began to get their equipment set up. “Sgt. Alley!”

“Got it, sarge!” cried Alley. The mortars flew up into the air, striking the building as the soldiers began to gain more ground. Foley and his squadron got themselves together and started to re-group.

“Okay, 1st Platoon! Move out!” he cried. 

Doc and Spina stood on the sidelines catching their breaths after that frightening experience. Spina’s eyes doubled in size as a joyful expression crossed over his pale face. 

“Gene! Look!” Doc turned his head to see the scattered troops now moving as one big unit again. He didn’t see Dike anywhere, the terrible feeling of failure dissipating knowing that Dike was no longer going to be a hindrance to success. He saw the soldiers crowd around the side of the building where the Germans were hiding out on the other side. From what he witnessed, he hadn’t seen many casualties which was more good news for him, but the fight was far from over. 

“Streetfight, Item, Streetfight Item. Easy Six. Over!” called Luz into his radio in attempts to try and reach anybody who was trapped on the other side.

“What do you see, Lipton?” said Speirs. Lipton was about to peer around the corner when a piece of shrapnel ricocheted off of the side of the building, hitting him near the side of his head. He quickly brought his hand up to stop the stinging as the warm blood trailing down the side of his face near his temple. He blinked his eyes to see if he could still see, thankfully he could. He shook his head from his daze and brought his hand away, taking out his binoculars.

“Armor and infantry,” replied Lipton. “A lot of infantry!”

“I Company’s supposed to be on the other side of town,” said Speirs. “Do you see any sign of them?” Lipton placed his binoculars up to his eyes again and looked past the German soldiers clad in white uniforms.

“No.”

“Radio, anything?” Luz shook his head as he kept trying to get connection to I Company.

“Sir, I think they’re gonna pull back,” said Lipton. “If we don’t connect with I, they’re gonna slip away!”

“That’s right. Wait here,” said Speirs. Without thinking, Speirs took off into the firing bullets, astonishing the Germans at seeing how quickly Speirs sprinted across the battlefield.

“Item! Item! Easy Six.” said Luz. He looked up from his radio and saw Speirs sprinting like a madman crossing the other side. “What the hell?” At first, the Germans didn’t shoot at him. They couldn’t quite believe what they were seeing. That however was not the most astounding thing Speirs did. He had managed to make contact with I Company and came back. 

***

Easy Company had managed to take over 100 German prisoners, the rest was a cleanup process. Doc was busy tending to some of the wounded men, one of them being Frank Perconte who got shot in his ass. One of the soldiers held a small camera and filmed some of the paratroopers singing and laughing on a tank, celebrating another Allied victory. 

“Let’s go. Move it. Move it!” said Lipton. He motioned with his hands for the German prisoners to keep walking. “Take them down to the barn.” The soldiers celebrating was cut short when a bullet was shot in Easy’s direction.

“Sniper!” cried a soldier. Doc quickly dove to the ground, covering Perconte as he pulled him behind the tank to finish fixing his wound.

“Take cover! Take cover!” cried Lipton. He ran to a nearby building for cover. “Come on! Come on!” he waved the other soldiers to file in quickly behind him as Shifty stood next to Lipton, his weapon at the ready.

“Where is he?” asked Foley. Lipton squinted his eyes to get a better look to see if he could find where the sniper was hiding.

“Shit I can’t see him,” he cried. Lipton squinted his eyes again, this time seeing a figure moving in the top window. “Second floor, building on the right. Don’t miss, Shifty.” Shifty nodded his head in understanding as he angled his weapon correctly, waiting for Lipton’s command.

“Now!” Shifty pulled back on the trigger, killing the sniper in one hit. The soldiers cheered and pat Shifty on his back for a job well done.

***

**16 January 1945, Rachamps, Belgium: 3.5 miles from Foy, Belgium**

Easy Company was finally enjoying some peace inside of a convent at Rachamps. A choir sang as the soldiers reflected upon all they had done over the years, some sleeping in the pews. Doc rested his arms on top of the pew in front of him. He was exhausted, both mentally and physically. He thought of Rachel often, the light of the candles reminding him of that pretty smile he fell in love with. He wished he could turn back time to save her life so he could hold her again, to kiss those pink lips to take away some pain and to confess his love for her. The world was a less happier place without Rachel.

Doc now understood what it was like for a man to die in his care and to think that he wasn’t good enough. He remembered the man who bled out on the table from his stomach, the distressed look in Rachel’s eyes, the look of disappointment and frustration. He wanted Rachel here next to him to give him advice. A couple times, he looked over at one of the choir girls thinking it was her but soon felt a sharp pang in his chest realizing it wasn't. Doc took the headscarf out of his pocket and looked at it, a sad smile formed over his lips.

_I wish you were here with me, babydoll. I miss you everyday._ He held the blue fabric against his heart, hoping it would give him some kind of comfort. He wanted the war to be over. He wanted to give up trying to stay strong he couldn’t do it anymore. He had to do it for Rachel. She would've wanted him to persevere to see the end of the war and to tell her story. 

A nun was distributing mail to some of the soldiers. The nun approached Doc and handed him a letter. Doc took the letter and nodded his head in thanks. He looked to see who the letter was from, first not thinking too much of it. He did a double take upon seeing what letters formed the person’s name, his eyes doubled in size for he thought his mind was tricking him. He could recognize that handwriting anywhere: the letter was from Rachel.


	12. 16 January 1945, Rachamps, Belgium: 3.5 miles from Foy, Belgium

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Praying for You- Hans Zimmer, Geoff Zanelli & Blake Neely (From The Pacific) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r8XxkaatVck&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=41 (Gene takes a moment to process the information on the letter.)
> 
> 2\. Euphoric-David McGarry (From Brothers in Arms: Earned in Blood) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u6Sc5ApbTpA&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=42 (Eugene gets good news and a miracle)
> 
> 3\. With the Old Breed [End Title Theme from The Pacific]- Hans Zimmer, Geoff Zanelli & Blake Neely https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z3_JMrX9l9g&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=43 (Easy Company moves out of Belgium)
> 
> 4\. IU Music Music-David McGarry (From Brothers in Arms: Earned in Blood) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0IVNcnSYAXw&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=44 (For the end of the Chapter when Easy leaves Belgium for good)
> 
> 5\. Western Front Armies Theme- Cris Velasco (From Company of Heroes 2: The Western Front Armies) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fo4SQMv8J9I&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=45 (Easy Company arrives in Haguenau)
> 
> 6\. Dark- David McGarry (From Brothers in Arms: Earned in Blood) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wFhPk5VbtqI&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=46
> 
> 7\. Sleep-David McGarry (From Brothers in Arms Earned in Blood) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iBUA08hJTx4&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=47

Doc didn’t know what to think of this mysterious letter. The handwriting looked exactly like Rachel’s, except he couldn’t be so sure. It could have been forged by someone else, yet her cursive was styled just like that. He placed the letter away from his eyes so he wouldn’t be tempted to open the envelope, feeling his heart sink lower. He had to remind himself of the truth constantly. 

_She’s dead, Eugene._ His gaze shifted back down to the untouched envelope, the temptation to open the letter to see the truth for himself edging him on. Part of him wanted to throw away the letter for he thought it was a mean prank one of the soldiers in Easy was playing on him. His second half, however wanted closure and answers. Doc pushed his conflicting thoughts aside as he placed his thumb under the flap to carefully open it. He slipped the neatly folded piece of paper out and unfolded it. His eyes quickly skimmed over the writing. His lips twitched into a smile, relief flooded his heart as happy tears stung the corners of his eyes, soon streaming down his face as he let out a soft chuckle.

_Dear Eugene,_

_I apologize for not responding to your letter you sent me a little while ago. I’ve been trying to keep myself safe over these past few days. I cannot tell you my whereabouts as of now since Hitler has launched a counterattack. I’m still treating wounded men like there's no tomorrow; seems to get a bit more crowded everyday in here, however it’s nothing like Bastogne. I miss hearing that soft-spoken Cajun accent of yours. I’m praying for you everyday. I hope you are safe and getting enough rest. Hang tough my sweet medic. I love you._

_Forever yours,_

_Rachel xxoo_

Doc read her letter several times, his heart nearly leapt out of his chest skimming over the three words that stuck out to him the most: I love you. Tears of joy flowed out of his eyes as he chuckled softly to himself as his tears hit the paper. He folded the letter into a neat little square before stuffing it inside one of his uniform pockets. He held his hands together like he was praying and lowered his head then brought it up like he was looking at heaven. More tears of happiness poured down his cheeks as he interlaced his fingers together.

“Thank you!” he said through his tears. “Thank you!” He pulled himself together as he opened Rachel’s letter again. 

“Gene? What’s wrong?” said Babe perplexed.

“Nothing’s wrong,” said Doc smiling. “She’s alive! She’s alive!”

“What?” said Babe still as confused as before. “Who--”

“Read for yourself, Heffron,” said Doc. He placed the paper into Babe’s hands. Babe didn’t have time to react or question any further as his eyes skimmed over the pretty writing. His confusion soon changed to an innocent smile.

“Awww ‘my sweet medic’,” he teased before letting out a chuckle. He handed the letter back to Doc. “That’s real cute.” Doc folded the letter into a square and kissed it, tucking it into one of his uniform pockets.

“I’m gonna see you soon, babydoll. “I ain’t gonna lose you again.” He rummaged through his bag looking for a spare sheet of paper and a writing utensil, penning his letter right away:

_Dear Rachel, January 16th, 1945_

_I'm glad to hear you're safe wherever you may be. Easy’s had a rough go of things over the past few weeks. Tonight is the first time in months that we get to sit inside since the war started. Almost forgot what warmth feels like since I’m so used to the cold now. We are being called to Haguenau to help hold the line with 63 men out of the 145 we originally came with._

_I think about you all the time. The memories of your beautiful smile and bright personality continue to give me the strength to keep going, even when all hope seems lost. Praying for you always and that we will be reunited again and soon. I love you, babydoll._

_Always and forever yours,_

_Gene_

Doc looked over his letter, content with his handiwork. He felt as if a large weight lift off of his shoulders, especially when he wrote 'I love you.’ He hoped his letter would make its way safely to Rachel. He didn’t know what he’d do if the enemy got their hands on it. He wanted the war to be over sooner. He was tired of seeing men get torn up and dying. When the war was over, Doc promised himself he’d live as peaceful of a life as best as he could. Knowing Rachel was alive was enough to see the end. He took his grandmother’s ring out of his pocket and smiled to himself. The thoughts of a happy future with her swirled in his mind. He loved her beyond words could describe. When the time was right for both of them, Doc was going to ask Rachel to take his last name and share a life with her. Just the two of them in a quiet corner of Louisiana. Doc tucked the ring back into his pocket before resting his chin on top of his arms and smiled gently.

_I like the sound of that_ he thought. He felt his eyes growing heavy and his head drooping. It had been too long since he had gotten a good night's sleep. The heat, mixed in with the peaceful singing of the choir, he couldn't fight the fatigue and relaxation forever. He closed his eyes and rested on his cheek, letting his steady breathing carry him into the first blissful slumber he’s had in months.

*** 

The trucks arrived the next morning ready to take the soldiers away from Belgium and to transport them to Haguenau. Doc finally felt refreshed. He was able to deliver his letter to Rachel before the vehicles came. His bags were less noticeable and already he looked healthier.

“You're already looking like you’re old self, Gene,” said Spina. Doc stretched his arms above his head, his back popping as he rolled his shoulders forwards and backwards, alleviating any tension. 

“Pews are probably the most uncomfortable thing people could sleep on,” said Doc. “That wasn't me last night though. I finally slept good!”

“How you holding up with---you know---” said Spina.

“I’m doing alright,” said Doc. “Rachel wrote to me last night.” Spina looked at his best friend like he spoke in foreign tongues.

“But Gene,” said Spina. “Rachel’s---”

“Still alive,” said Doc. He took out the letter and held it in front of him and smiled. “Read it for yourself. That's her handwriting.” Spina took the letter from Doc still skeptical, hoping his friend wasn't spiraling into madness. Spina read through the letter, his skepticism changing to approval. He had to suck in his laughter on ‘my sweet medic.’

“Well the good news is, she fancies you back, Gene,” said Spina. “Or should I say 'my sweet medic?’” Spina nearly burst out laughing as Doc took the letter back, rolling his eyes and smiled

“Very funny,” he said sarcastically. “Spina, do me a huge favor will you?”

“Sure,” said Spina still smiling, obviously trying not to burst out laughing from the urge to call Doc the nickname again.

“Don't call me that ever again,” said Doc. “It’s alright if Rachel calls me that when you say it---things just got awkward real fast.”

“Alright, I got you,” said Spina chuckling. He hoisted himself onto the back of the truck as he offered a hand to Doc. “You wrote her back didn't you?” Doc felt his cheeks blush as he tried to hide his smile. He took Spina’s hand for support. “I take it by that innocent smile, blushing and your silence you did! Whatcha say to her, Gene?”

“How much I miss her,” said Doc adjusting himself on the seat. “How Easy is doing, those kinds of things.”

“And?” said Spina. He elongated his hands and made small circles in the air. “I feel like there's an and in there somewhere.”

“And----that I love her,” said Doc humbly. “I figured I oughta tell her now since I don't know where she’s stationed currently. I wish I knew where she was though.” Spina rested his hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“But, she's alive and wherever she is, she's safe,” he said. “You just gotta keep communicating with her through those letters. Before you know it, she’s gonna turn up when you least expect it! When you find each other again, both of you are gonna kiss, get married and make a bunch of beautiful little Roes!”

Doc shook his head as he chuckled. “Well, we oughta save up our pennies for a wedding!”

“I’m serious! Out of everyone in this company, you deserve some peace!” said Spina. “Gene, you’re one of the hardest working men in this company. There’s a reason why you’ve earned the nickname of ‘Doc.’” Spina squeezed his friend’s shoulder again and smiled as the trucks drove away.

***

**05 February 1945, Haguenau, France: 186 miles from Foy, Belgium**

Easy Company arrived back to France after traveling for a while. Doc’s legs had started to go numb, like pins and needles were pricking him. How he longed to stand up and stretch his legs again or to sit down into a proper chair for once. Grey buildings lined the cobblestone streets, accompanying the dreary early February sky. The soldiers hopped off the backs of the trucks and stretched their legs. Doc raised both of his hands above his head and cracked his back, a long yawn escaping his chapped lips at the same time. 

Doc pulled his scarf around his neck tighter, his eyelids drooping, a mixture from the cold air and the warm but itchy scarf. He moved his head from one side to the other, cracking his neck and rolling his shoulders back.

“Thank Christ,” said Spina. “I can feel my legs again!”

“You and me both,” said Doc in between yawns. “God I can sleep in the cold, I can sleep on a pew, but I sure as hell can’t sleep in a vehicle.”

“One of these buildings must have a bed or something for you to sleep in, Gene,” said Spina. 

“A bed would be the preference of choice,” said Doc half awake. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and licked his chapped lips. “Or a hot shower.” He started pulling some of the soldiers equipment out from the trucks and handed them over, each man moving down it like an assembly line. Doc yawned again as he felt himself almost tip over, luckily Spina caught him.

“Gene, go get some rest. I can help the soldiers,” said Spina. 

“I’m okay Spina,” said Doc half-groggy as his eyes fluttered open again. “Really I---”

“Nope. You need to recharge,” said Spina taking Doc by the arm and bringing him towards the building. “Gene, you’re tripping over your feet. That’s not a good sign. Rest your eyes for a little bit and just see what happens.”

“Okay,” said Doc in between yawns. 

Spina led Doc upstairs to an empty, but dingy looking bedroom. The room was falling apart except the bed was neatly made. . Wallpaper was peeled off in some places sometimes in long runs or large patches. The curtains were in better shape and pulled back to reveal a single window overlooking the rest of Haguenau across the river. Soft white snowflakes fell from the grey sky that almost seemed to blend into the atmosphere.

Spina pulled the covers down and took off Doc’s helmet and satchel and placed them on a small nightstand. He led a sleepy Doc to the mattress and made him lie down as he was about to untie his boots.

“Leave ‘em on,” said Doc. Spina stood up and pulled the covers over Doc, making sure he was comfortable.

“Alright,” said Spina. “I’ll leave you be then.” He ruffled his best friend’s hair before closing the door. “Sweet dreams, Gene.”

Doc held the blankets around him like he was a small child again. He stared at a spot on the wall blankly seeing if he could close his eyes. He turned to both sides of the bed but no matter what he did, he couldn’t get comfortable. He stared up at the ceiling blankly; one hand behind his head, the other resting on his stomach. His eyes grew heavier the longer he stared. Doc turned over onto his side that was closest to the window and sighed softly as his mind wandered back to Rachel.

Thinking about her warm smile made him feel happy, but lonely. He missed Rachel more than anything. Doc grew anxious for he didn't know if it was safe for her to reveal where she was yet. He wished she was lying next to him, to block out the unpleasant cold just so he could have an excuse to cuddle with her under the blankets, to know she was safe in his arms and to let her know he truly loves her. Doc sat up in frustration for he still couldn’t get comfortable. He reached into his satchel and took out a clean sheet of paper and a writing instrument as he penned another letter to his beloved nurse.

_February 5th, 1945_

_Dear Rachel,_

_It's been some time since I've last written to you. I’m writing this from a beat up bedroom as my eyes droop from exhaustion. Easy Company is finally out of Belgium, now we're back in France holding the line at Haguenau. The repercussions of war are continuing to affect my performance as a medic greatly. I feel it often and I hate it. I was tending to a man even after he died. The war never gets any easier. Still, my duties to my country are far from over. But I think of your beautiful smile and amazing personality to keep me going strong. Praying that you are safe and I hope to hear something from you soon. I love and miss you with all my heart._

_Forever yours,_

_Gene xx_

He tucked the letter away safely into an envelope and stared at it, regardless of his tired eyes and let out a sad sigh before bringing the paper to his lips and placing a long kiss on it.

_Hope you’re okay, babydoll._ He thought to himself. Doc placed the letter into his stachel and pulled the blankets back around him again as his eyelids began to close as he began to feel something he thought he had forgotten existed. Warmth. Comfort. It snatched him up like the hot Louisiana sun he so dearly missed. It reminded him of his family. The days he would spend lying in the warm grass and watching the clouds with his younger brothers John and Charles, imagining what kinds of shapes or images they made as his sisters Minnie and Winnie watched from the porch for they didn’t want to get their dresses dirty. He thought about the day he had to quit elementary school and had to work on shrimp boats when he was a child. He remembered how he reeked of seafood when he came home, his mother telling him to go shower immediately.

His mind began to drift back to when he first met Rachel at the aid station, how they connected through a simple glance and shy smiles, trying to play coy with each other. He loved how her dark brown eyes would light up whenever they would meet. It was the happiest he had seen anybody in a longtime and made his heart flutter. A tired smile formed over his chapped lips. He no longer felt lonely for he knew he was going to be with Rachel again. His eyes started to close, the softness of the pillow touching his cheek before he drifted off into a peaceful slumber, giving him good dreams for once as he dreamt of Rachel.

***

Doc didn't know how long he slept for. It must have been hours. He didn't even remember when he dozed off. He was conscious enough to hear the door slam open and feeling Babe shaking him rigorously but not enough to make him jump out of bed.

“Gene! Get up! They're calling for you!” Doc flinched at the slightest touch. His eyelids shot open quickly before they fluttered shut again, the same pair of hands grabbing his shoulder and continued to shake him. “Gene! Come on!” Doc could feel Babe trying to drag him out of the bed, but in a poor attempt to do so.

“Heffron what---”

“Kiehn’s hit,” said Babe. He rushed down the stairs back to where the other soldiers were. Doc grabbed his helmet and satchel from the night stand, quickly flying down the staircase, skipping the last two stairs at the bottom. By the time Doc had arrived, he was too late. Blood trailed across Kiehn's cold, motionless face. The other soldiers surrounded the dead man from a distance. Doc rested on the back of his heels in defeat, wondering what exactly had happened or why he didn't hear the call for a medic in time.

“He was carrying a sack of potatoes,” said a soldier softly. Doc kept his gaze down at the deceased soldier. He swallowed but his throat became tight and dry knowing that he had failed to save another man’s life again.

_This must be what Rachel was feeling in Bastogne. Empty. Useless. Beating yourself up for not getting to somebody fast enough_ , he thought to himself. He checked Kiehn’s pockets and held a small pencil in between his teeth as he rummaged through a small container with slips of paper and scrawled across it quickly. He stuffed the container into his pocket and placed the pencil back into his satchel. He gazed upwards at his fellow soldiers with a saddened expression as he gave the slip of paper to Christenson in silence before looking back towards the dead body that lay in front of him. 

The soldiers began to file out one by one, leaving Doc alone to process his thoughts. He took his helmet off of his head, running his fingers through his thick dark hair, letting out a deep sigh, his breath clouding in the cold February air. He massaged his forehead and temples, taking another glance at Kiehn. It was the same thing that kept haunting his memories: the look on a soldier’s face before they took their final breaths.

He wanted it to stop. All of it. The longer the war dragged on, the more Doc began to question himself. There was nothing he could do. He picked himself up off the ground and walked over to an empty set of stairs sitting on them, contemplating his navels as he so often did. He rested his knuckle against his dirty cheek, licking his chapped lips. Doc brought his knees up to his chest and folded his arms over them to rest his chin. He looked out at the bleak world around him and up towards the sky, praying Rachel was doing better than he was and that he was going to see his love sooner rather than later. 


	13. 05 February 1945:  An aid station in another part of France

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glenn Miller-Moonlight Serenade: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mr7Tu5UlrhE&index=42&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc (The song for the start of the chapter)
> 
> Vera Lynn-Lili Marlene: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZSMuTm649Hk&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=44 (The song Doc sings)

A cold breeze moved through the thin walls of the makeshift aid station. Rachel shivered as she rubbed her arms, trying to block out the unwanted coolness, trying to keep a positive face for the wounded, although she knew there was no chance of that anymore Not even Glenn Miller’s _Moonlight Serenade_ playing on a beat up record player in the background could uplift her spirits. She got along with the other nurses that were in the aid station with her, but they weren’t Renée or Anna. Everytime she looked towards the entrance, she expected to see them step through to assist her.

Her heart sunk, remembering what had happened a couple months prior. A lot of the nurses tried to get her to open up about what she was going through which she appreciated, however the look she gave them was enough to let them know she couldn’t talk about it. She didn’t think she’d be ever to talk about it, but that was not the only thing that was troubling her. She swallowed a lump that formed in her throat as she collected used bandages to put into the hot water to soak taking her mind off of the fact she had no idea where Eugene was. She breathed in and out of her nose trying not to become ill with fear that she may never see her beloved medic again.

Rachel pushed the horrendous thoughts out of her head as she stirred the bandages briefly before wiping her hands on her apron to check on the other wounded men. Suddenly, the door slammed open as two medics carrying a man with a severe head wound came in. Rachel ran towards the two medics, her heart beating rapidly, praying one of them was Doc.

“We got penetration!” called one of the medics. The voice was deep enough to be Gene’s but Rachel wasn’t sure. The man had his back turned towards Rachel as she ran into the main area where some of the other nurses helped to get the man with the head wound to an area where he could be treated immediately.

“Eugene?” called Rachel. The voice sounded much clearer as her smile returned to her face for it sounded a lot like Gene. She dropped her bloodied rag onto a nearby table and fixed her headscarf in a poor attempt to try and make herself look presentable as possible for her boyfriend. She nearly broke into a run as she entered the main area where the two medics were. “Eugene! Oh Eugene! I’ve---” She stopped short and nearly fell forward onto her face when the medic turned towards her.

“Who?” said the medic in a not so smooth voice. Rachel’s smile fell from her face realizing it wasn’t her boyfriend. She fumbled with her dress sleeves, pushing them up her elbows before letting her hands drop to her sides. 

“Sorry,” she said disappointed. “I thought---I thought you were someone else.” Rachel looked at the medic again and shook her head before backing away slowly. “Sorry.” She went back into the other room, feeling a knot tighten in her chest as she leaned against the wall, biting her lower lip in hopes to prevent it from quivering. Her brown eyes glassed over as she fought back tears as she turned her head up towards the ceiling, feeling the wet trails run down her porcelain-like face. She slid down the wall, holding her knees against her chest tightly as the tears became more prominent until the dam broke. 

How badly she wanted to tell her boyfriend where she was to stop her worried heart. She saw his face in several of the soldiers or heard his voice, making her do a double take, only to have her heart sink into the pit of her stomach. She held her knees tightly against her chest and lowered her head and cried, growing more fearful for Gene’s safety everyday, realizing her chances of seeing him again were slim. She buried her face into the crook of her elbows and sobbed.

_Eugene. Where are you? Don’t take him from me. I’ve already lost two people I cared about. I can’t lose another._

***

**05 February 1945, Haguenau, France: 186 miles from Foy, Belgium**

Doc lay against the bed in the dingy gray room and took out Rachel’s headscarf from his pocket. It had gotten a little dirtier but he didn't’ care. It still felt good to feel something soft and warm on his fingertips and the closest thing he had to having her in the room with him. His fingers pinched a corner like he normally did and rubbed it in between his index finger and thumb. He sighed as he enjoyed the peace and quiet, not having to hear Sergeant Lipton hack up a lung from his pneumonia or the new West Pointer Lieutenant Jones who was trying just as hard to gain acceptance into the company like David Webster, even though he had been with Easy Company since the drop into Normandy, though he spent an advanced amount of time in the hospital after he got shot resulting in him being treated like he was a replacement. 

Doc kept looking at his beloved’s headscarf, praying she would be able to reveal her location to him soon. His heart sank more as Vera Lynn’s _Lili Marlene_ played on a record player only making Doc think of Rachel more but he couldn’t help himself from singing the words as he wrapped and unwrapped her headscarf from his hands to try to keep his mind occupied, except the words reflected almost perfectly on his relationship with her as he sang:

_“Time would come for roll call Time for us to part Darling I'd caress you And press you to my heart And there neath that far off lantern light I'd hold you tight We'd kiss good night My Lili of the lamplight My own Lili Marlene”_ He felt a little better in singing but his heart ached for Rachel everyday and started to grow more anxious. He was too caught up in singing he didn’t notice Babe and Spina walking in carrying whatever scraps of food they could have scrounged from God knows where.

“Bravo!” said Babe. “If our hands weren’t full we’d applaud!” Doc stopped singing and sat up on the bed and shoved Rachel’s headscarf into his pocket, still a bit flustered that people heard him sing.

“Aww why’d you stop?” said Spina a bit disappointed. “You sounded good up here!” Doc’s cheeks continued to flush for he probably had a giddy smile on his face when he sang. 

“I think he was pretending to sing it to Rachel,” said Babe smirking at Spina. The both of them had to suck in their laughter. Doc shot Babe and Spina sideways look, trying hard to glare at them but found it impossible for Heffron was right. Doc’s cheeks blushed as red as the cross on his left arm and smiled at the ground, attempting to hide it as he bit his lower lip, except it was too late. 

“No sense in hiding it from us now, Gene,” chuckled Spina. “We already know how much you love Rachel.”

“I thought it was cute how you were singing to her headscarf,” said Babe holding back a chuckle. Doc leaned forward on the bed and held his hands together as he tried not to laugh.

“Alright. You fellas caught me,” said Doc holding his hands up in surrender. “I was pretending to sing to Rachel. Happy now?” Babe and Spina let out their chuckles as Doc lowered his hands and flapped them to get them to stop laughing. “Okay, okay. You’ve had your teasing for today, what do you guys want?”

“We saved you some food,” said Spina. “We weren’t sure if you had anything to eat yet so we figured we’d grab some stuff before those moochers swipe everything.” Babe and Spina handed Doc some bread, crackers and biscuits. Spina handed Doc his canteen which had clean water and was filled to the brim.

“There’s more too,” said Babe. He took his hand away from the tin cup he was carrying to let the steam rise as he handed it over to Gene. “Careful the soup’s still a little hot.” Doc took the food rations and the hot tin, blowing on the top carefully as he curled his fingers around perhaps the first decent meal he’s had in months. 

“Thank you,” said Doc. He blew over the steam again before bringing it to his lips, the warm soup running down the back of his throat, savoring it like it could be the last meal he could eat. It didn’t taste cold. It was perfectly hot but not scalding to burn his tongue and not have him taste anything for hours. Suddenly, the three of them heard smacking on a table and a loud clunk from downstairs.

“God Dammit, Johnny you’re breaking my heart I’m telling you,” said Luz as he was sorting through several other boxes downstairs.

“Whoa Hershey bars!” said Liebgott sounding like a little kid on Christmas morning.

“What’s going on downstairs?” said Doc. He took another sip of his soup before hiding his rations in his satchel before joining Babe and Spina.

“Sounds like we hit the motherload with supplies,” said Babe. 

“They got medical stuff?” said Doc. 

“Only way to find out is to head down ourselves,” said Spina. The three soldiers walked downstairs to the group of soldiers.

“Jesus Christ,” said Luz, completely unprepared for more Easy Company soldiers trickling in behind Liebgott.

“Wait your turn, Lieb,” said Cobb sounding like he was more important than the others.

“Not you, Lieb,” said Luz with a little more authority in his voice.

“Oh come on, George, just one bar,” pleaded Liebgott.

“No there’s not enough to go around!” said Luz trying to get the point across to the stubborn soldiers.

“Is Captain Speirs here?” said Jones, who looked more baby-faced than Babe Heffron but had thick dark hair like Doc’s but more perfectly coiffed.

“Uh down by the riverside,” said Luz still trying maintain some kind of balance and order. 

“Hey big mouth,” said a familiar voice Luz knew all too well. “Give the kid a Hershey bar, huh?” Luz smiled broadly and let out a soft chuckle upon realizing who it was.

“You gotta be shitting me!” said Luz, the broad smile still on his face. Frank Perconte stood in the doorway all smiles and still in one piece after getting shot in the behind at Foy. 

“Sup guys?” said Perconte smiling as wide as before. He looked around at the worn down interior. “Like what you did with the place, George.”

“Yeah, yeah I did good, huh?” said Luz, more than happy to see his best friend back with the other Easy soldiers. “How you feeling?”

“If you keep your hands off my ass I’ll be fine,” said Frank. Luz tossed him the Hershey bar.

“Have a Hershey bar,” said Luz smiling. Frank caught it successfully and smiled to himself, much to Liebgott’s dismay.

“Hey, he got a fucking Hershey bar?” said Liebgott, sounding a bit too demanding.

“Well he got shot in the ass,” said Luz imitating how childish Liebgott was sounding. Doc, Babe and Spina came downstairs to see what all the chatter was about.

“Look who’s here!” said Babe smiling broadly as he shook Perconte’s hand. “Hey Perco. Nice to see your ass isn’t keeping you on the ground!”

“Hey, Babe,” chuckled Frank.

“Hey George, you got any medical supplies in any of those boxes?” said Doc. He dipped one of his crackers into the soup before placing it into his mouth. 

“Probably,” said Luz as the unlit cigarette dangled from his mouth. “Probably in a box on the bottom. You can search them if you want.”

“You got anything else I can give to Rachel?” said Doc.

“Well, what were you thinking of giving her?” said Luz smirking. “We don’t got no diamond rings or fancy jewelry.”

“Got any leftover rations so I can send her a care package at least?” said Doc. “If you have any Hershey bars I think she’d like that.”

“Why don’t you send her yourself?” said Cobb with a cocky attitude and rather loudly. “That way you can stop fucking pouting about not seeing your broad and quit staring at that goddamn headscarf--

“Hey, hey hey! Cobb with the mouth please,” said Luz taking control again. “Gene’s just trying to do his job and look out for his girlfriend alright? Jesus Christ. You know what? To hell with it.” Luz placed several of the contents from the packages back into the box in frustration. “I’ve done my best. I gotta go blast this house.” Luz picked up his gun that was resting against the wall and slung it over his shoulder. “Perco, why don’t you make yourself useful and watch these guys for me alright? Better yet, let Gene have first pick at some stuff.” Luz left with Webster and Jones out the side door as Liebgott and the other soldiers started swarming the box and getting all grabby like little children.

“Alright come on guys, please,” said Perconte trying to restore order to the greedy soldiers. 

“Hey, hey hey I’ve been waiting all fucking day!” said Liebgott growing more impatient. “Give me a bar!”

“I’m supposed to watch these!” cried Perconte. 

“Come on, you don’t even smoke cigarettes, damnit!” yelled Liebgott.

“Hey! I’ve got a wounded ass!” protested Frank. The soldiers bickering got louder as Doc, Babe and Spina looked at each other as they continued to fight over a piece of candy. Spina and Babe placed two fingers into their mouths and sharply whistled. Some of the soldiers stuck a finger in their ear to try and stop the ringing.

“The fuck was that for?!” cried Cobb.

“If you boys don’t mind, Gene’s got a lovely broad he would like to send something to,” said Babe. “If I do remember correctly, Luz said Gene did get first pick at whatever is in the boxes. C’mon it’s the right thing to do. Then you guys can get whatever the fuck you want afterwards.” 

The other soldiers looked at one another before they glanced back at Babe, Spina and Doc’s general direction. They parted like the Red Sea to clear a path for Doc. Even Doc was flabbergasted, but deeply honored and moved by the kind gesture. He turned towards Babe and mouthed ‘Thank you’ Doc went towards the boxes and grabbed whatever he thought Rachel would find satisfactory.


	14. 05 February 1945, Haguenau, France: 186 miles from Foy, Belgium

A patrol was being planned for later that same evening. Several of the soldiers were eager to land a spot to cross the river to take German prisoners and bring them back to CP. No one, however was more eager than Lieutenant Jones and David Webster. Doc knew Webster wasn’t a replacement for he remembered patching him up in Holland after he got shot where he dramatically announced “Jesus Christ they got me!” He chuckled at the thought as he finished assembling the care package. He took out a clean sheet of paper from his satchel and smoothed it across the top of the box as as he penned another letter to Rachel.

_ February 5th, 1945 _

_ Dear Rachel, _

_ I know I wrote you a letter earlier today but I wanted to give you a little something that you can get a lot of use out of. I am sending you a care package with whatever food and supplies I could gather for you. Hoping that it gets to you safely, ma chère. I’m still praying for your safety and that you will be able to let me know where you are as soon as possible. Thinking of you always. I love and miss you everyday, babydoll. _

_ Love always, _

_ Gene xxoo _

Doc tucked the letter into the envelope and placed it on top of the box as he went back downstairs to find a way his package could get to Rachel. Spina was hanging out on the couch downstairs with his helmet covering his eyes, his hands resting behind his head. The briefing for the patrol was still happening. Though Spina was pretending to sleep, he could still hear everything that was going on, even though he felt his eyelids fluttering. 

“Spina?” whispered Doc. Spina snored loudly, not hearing a word Doc said as he sunk deeper on the couch. Doc rapped on Spina’s helmet with his knuckle, startling his best friend from his peaceful slumber. Spina jolted himself awake, nearly sliding off of the couch as he grabbed an arm, the other fumbling with his helmet as he fell off of the couch.

“I’m up! I’m up! Who’s hit?! Who’s---” Doc let out a low chuckle as he crossed his arms in front of his chest. Spina turned his head towards his best friend and looked at him with his helmet askew. He adjusted it quickly and stood up to give him a playful push to his stomach as Doc pushed his friend’s hand away still chuckling. Spina tried to stay mad at his friend but he found it impossible to do so. “You asshole.” 

“Morning,” said Doc still suppressing his giggles. 

“Gene whaddya need?” said Spina. “Can’t you see I was in the middle of getting my beauty sleep?”

“What’s going on with the patrol?” said Doc quickly regaining his composure. 

“Aww hell if I know,” said Spina letting out a yawn as he stretched his arms above his head. “Last thing I remembered was they were still talking, mostly about not having anything that shines and makes noise, helmets, canteens, rings and stuff. Stealth and speed to get those prisoners from across the river.”

“Do they need one of us to go with them in case if anybody gets hit?” said Doc. Before Spina could open his mouth to answer, Sgt. Martin and the other soldiers involved with the mission emerged from the other room. 

“Sgt. Martin should know the answer to that question,” said Spina. “Snag him before he leaves.” Doc jogged over to the Sergeant.

“Sergeant---Sergeant Martin,” called Doc. Martin turned towards Doc, his usually dower-looking face seemed to have perked up slightly, ready to answer any questions that might come his way. “Sergeant, do you need either me or Spina to tag along with you for the patrol tonight, sir? Figured it would be safe to have one of us in case if anyone gets hit.”

“No, Doc,” said Martin. “It’s best if you and Spina stay back here. That way it’s easier for us to find either one of you.” Doc bit the inside of his lower lip and sighed in defeat for that wasn’t the response he was hoping to hear for he knew it was a bad idea. He understood why everyone cared about him so much but at the same time he hated sitting back until he was needed. He remembered what happened the last time Easy went on a patrol in the Ardennes for reconnaissance and how John Julian was killed because he didn’t go with them. 

“But sir--”

“Sorry Doc,” said Martin. “You’re too valuable to us. We can’t lose you or Spina.” Doc let out another sigh and looked at the hardwood floor as he shoved his hands into his uniform pockets. Martin could see the look of disappointment in Doc’s war weary blue eyes. He fixed his gun to prevent it from sliding off of his shoulder. He placed a reassuring hand on Doc’s shoulder. “Hey. I know how much these men mean to you, Gene. We’ve all seen what you’re capable of. Taking shot after shot to help somebody who got hit. That’s a great display of courage! But, we’re gonna get this mission done as quickly as possible. It’s best for you to stay here.” 

Doc let the words resonate in his mind for a moment before nodding his head in agreement, hesitantly.

“Yes, sir,” he said. Martin gave Doc a simple twitch of his lips to let him know it was gonna be okay. He turned on his heel towards the door to rally the troops together. 

“Alright boys, let’s move out!”

***

**05 February 1945, Haguenau, France: The Night of the Patrol**

Easy Company made their way down the bank of the river cautiously and silently as they could make themselves. The inflatable rafts were set and strung across in an orderly fashion as the soldiers lowered themselves into cautiously one by one, giving each other a hand if they needed it.

“Any problems?” whispered Martin.

“No problems,” replied a soldier. “Secured to the tree. No sign of any AP mines.” The soldiers continued to load themselves into the boats , careful of where their footing was placed in case if they were to slip and fall into the icy water. David Webster continued to look across the river, anticipating what they were gonna encounter once they reached the other side. 

“Webster, come on!” called Martin. He motioned for the man to stop daydreaming and to focus on the task at hand. Jones helped him into the boat before he seated himself down. Once the rafts were full, the soldiers pulled themselves across the water with the long rope. “Keep it steady. Keep it steady.”

The soldiers continued to pull across the water, slowly to make sure none of the boats capsized. The last group of soldiers paddled their way to the back and grabbed the rope overhead. Suddenly, the line began to grow taut as the boat in the back started growing heavier and unbalanced. 

“Ah--shit!” cried a soldier from the rear. The other soldiers looked back briefly to see if they could help the man who fell out of his raft but quickly looked back towards the front. “I can’t swim!”

“Garcia, grab this,” said another soldier next to him. Garcia coughed up water as the other soldier pulled him back to shore. Jones looked back to where the men had fallen out and knew it was too risky to try to get them out. He motioned for Sgt. Martin to keep moving forward. Martin nodded his head before turning back around.

“Okay, keep going,” he whispered. “Stay focused. Come on. Stay focused. Come on! Come on!” The boats reached the German side of the river as the soldiers unloaded themselves from the rafts. They lowered themselves onto their elbows, cradling their guns in their arms to limit any other noise they would make. Barbed wire obstructed their path but nothing too big of an obstacle.

“Cutters,” whispered Martin. He held the wire down with his free hand as the soldier next to him took out his wire cutters. The soldier placed the cutters on the wire as Martin continued to hold it. A small twang sound came from each clipped wire. Luckily, it was not enough to cause too much sound that would alert any Germans. Martin signaled for the rest of the patrol to move forward as they hid behind snow banks and around the perimeter of the house they were supposed to enter.

Martin hid himself behind a stack of logs, sending the next small groups of soldiers to get closer to the house. The soldiers hid like ducks in a row keeping their footsteps as light as possible until Martin came over to give them their next instruction. 

“Powers. Wynn. Secure the left flank,” he instructed. “Lieutenant. Take Grant and Heffron. Secure the right perimeter in the crossroads.” Lieutenant Jones nodded his head quickly as he, Grant and Babe got up to the opposite side. Sgt. Martin led the small group that was still left towards the staircase of the house. He equipped an explosive to his gun and aimed it at one of the windows, shattering the glass. 

A young private named Eugene Jackson held his grenade in his hand and bounded up the stairs a bit too eagerly.

“Jackson! Hold on!” called Martin. The young private didn’t listen as he made his way up the stairs as the second blast went off inside of the building, shattering more glass from the inside. He nearly fell over to the side but covered his face to protect himself from the shards. Jackson threw the grenade at the building and started charging straight towards the opening, except the grenade didn’t go off. “Jackson! Wait!” Jackson didn’t hear his sergeant’s orders and busted through the door, the grenade exploded as soon as he swung the door open. He collapsed onto the ground, trying to scream out in pain. The other soldiers charged into the building where the Germans were. 

_ “Raus!”  _ yelled Webster.  _ “Hände hoch!” _ The Germans were confused, but also terrified of what had just happened. One of them tried to reach for their gun but Martin kicked it away. 

“Put it down!” ordered Martin. “Put it down! Put your hands out where I can see them! Webster! Keep those Krauts quiet!” The two German soldiers kept trying to protest as the Easy soldiers kept their guns trained on them, ready to fire if necessary. Martin brought his attention away from the German soldiers and back towards Jackson. He knelt down to the soldier’s level and turned him over to see how bad he was doing. Half of Jackson’s face swelled and was covered in slick, red blood. He whimpered faintly as his blood seeped into his mouth. “Take care of him. Let’s go Webster! Let’s go!” Webster pushed the protesting Germans up against the wall forcibly as another replacement tried to stop the wound on Jackson’s face. He took one look at the blood on his fingers. His whole body shook as he glanced at the liquid on his fingers, nearly passing out from the sight of having another man’s blood touch his skin. 

“Take the charges. Prime it and hide it,” ordered Martin. Webster grabbed one of the charges off of the table and hid it next to a dresser. The German soldiers continued to ramble in fear. “Shut up, you two! McClung. These two are gonna carry the wounded Kraut! Okay we’re gonna move out on my command! Are you ready?! Are you ready?!”

Webster continued to set the charges as the Germans continued chattering. 

“Shut up you!” barked Martin. “Let’s go! Move! Move out! Let’s go! Move!” Martin nodded his head briefly and flipped his hand outwards signaling to the other soldiers it was okay to move. “Move!” The three German soldiers moved down the staircase as gunfire started rumbling pretty close to where the soldiers were. David Webster was almost finished putting the charges together, a few left as he fumbled with the last few. “Webster! Come on!”

Martin, Webster and Jones left the building as the gunfire got closer. Shifty Powers stood up from his hiding spot firing back at the German who was shooting at him.

“Powers fall back! We’re moving out!” called Martin. Shifty ran back over to his fellow troopers quickly. McClung took point as he led the prisoners ahead. “Wynn! Fall back! We’re moving out let’s go!” Popeye quickly got up from his position, following behind his fellow soldiers back to the river where the boats were tied off as the Germans continued to try to shoot anything that moves. 

“We’re falling back!” called Martin as he kept sprinting. “Covering fire!” The gunfire kept moving across the frozen landscape rapidly. Webster, Martin and several other Easy Company soldiers started to fire back at the Germans as best as they could to stall for time as another soldier carried Jackson over his shoulders with the German prisoners in tow. “Heffron! I want you to fall back now! Let’s go!” Babe got up from his position and followed his squadron back to the boats as the gunfire rang out like bells. 

“Popeye!” called Webster. “Move over! I’m covering! Go!” Webster took Popeye’s spot as he fired back at the Germans in the distance to buy his fellow soldiers more time. 

“Keep moving! Move it!” cried Martin. 

***

On the Allied side of the river, Joseph Liebgott could see several outlines of his fellow soldiers moving across back to the enemy’s side of the river. Several bullets whizzed past them, sometimes getting several close calls. He looked up from his weapon, patiently waiting for someone to blow the whistle. He locked his gun and looked through his scope to line up his aim when the time was right.

***

The soldiers continued to make their way towards the boats as gunfire continued to pop around them. They were closer but there was still the risk that anyone of them could get hit. Doc wasn’t there to fix anyone if they were to take another bullet or a mortar shell. They had to get off of the enemy’s side fast for they weren’t sure how much Jackson could hold on for. 

“Lieutenant!” called Martin. Jones turned his head quickly only to see something small and round being tossed in his general direction. The object plopped in front of him, casting a faint silver glow on what looked like metal. “The whistle!” Jones looked at the object quickly before picking it up in a single swoop. “Let’s go!” 

Jones turned his head again and didn’t hesitate to get up, clutching the only thing that could get himself and the other soldiers to safety.

“Go!” yelled Jones. “Let’s go! Move it, Webster!”

“Let’s go!” cried Martin shortly afterwards. Suddenly in the distance, a large explosion went off as the soldiers started to run towards it, soon followed by another and another until more shellings came, striking certain areas of the ground. “Stay low! Keep moving!”

The firefight grew into something chaotic. Smoke covered the white ground and the surrounding area as the other soldiers in Easy started to fire back at the Germans as more artillery shells exploded. Liebgott kept his position and aim open as his fellow soldiers continued running back towards the boats.

“Jesus Christ, come on blow the goddamn whistle!” he called from across the other side of the river. As if on cue, Lieutenant Jones blew the whistle with all the breath he could muster, blowing the whistle a couple of times as an artillery shell exploded near him, showering him with dirt. Liebgott didn’t hold back for a second as he returned fire to the Germans, aiming for the windows on the house. 

Jones blew the whistle a third time as more covering fire was provided as Sgt. Martin and the other Easy Company soldiers continued to make their way to the boats while avoiding enemy fire that was getting much worse.

“Alright everybody get in the boats!” cried Martin. “Come on! Keep moving! Get in the boats!” 

Shifty Powers still stayed where he was, picking off any German soldiers.

“Let’s go, Shifty!” called Martin. Shifty didn’t hesitate as he quickly ran back to meet up with the rest of the troops. One of the prisoners sunk to his knees after tripping over his own two feet and raised his hands above his head.

“I’m gonna shoot you, you fucking Kraut!” cried a soldier who had a terrible voice crack as he raised his pistol towards the prisoner’s head. 

“Vest! You shoot him, we’re gonna have to come back for more,” said Martin as he pushed the soldier’s arm away from the German prisoner. All he wanted was to get his men out of there as quickly as possible before anyone else got hurt. He looked harshly towards the fallen German soldier. “You! In the boat! Now!”

The German prisoner kept protesting as blood trickled from one of his nostrils, still confused and very much frightened as to what was happening. Martin and the other soldiers grabbed the prisoners forcefully, pushing and shoving them to get into the boats and to make them stop hesitating. “Get up you overgrown Kraut shit!”

Suddenly, an artillery shell struck the building that was behind the paratroopers. Layers of brick fell to the ground like a mighty oak that had been struck with a few swings of an axe, crumpling into a massive heap on the smokey covered ground. 

“Get in the boats now!” cried Sgt. Martin. 

“In the boat! Web! We’re moving out! Come on!” In the brief skirmish, one of the prisoners was shot as he struggled to try and crawl to somewhere that was safe, a task that was deemed far too daunting and challenging for he was shot in his leg.

“Quick! Get in the boat! Come on! Let’s get these boats in the water! Move! Start pulling!” 

The soldiers piled into the boats quickly as they started to pull themselves back across the river to the Allied side. An artillery shell struck the water, spouting upwards like a geyser that had just erupted. The soldiers continued to check on Jackson, hoping and praying that he was going to hold out long enough for him to be brought back to Doc to get fixed in time. One side of his face swelled, one of his eyes looked like it had sealed itself completely shut like someone had stitched it. His face continued to grow slick with blood, a gruesome mixture of purple, blue and red from the impact of the grenade. 

“You’re okay, Jackson!” called Webster over the gunfire. He held the wounded boy in his arms, attempting to keep the raft as balanced as possible. The soldiers continued to pull themselves across quickly. One of the soldiers that was providing covering fire with Liebgott ran to the river’s edge to pull the rope and offer a free hand to anyone who wanted it. “Where’s the medic?!” Several other soldiers from Easy Company carried Jackson onto a stretcher quickly as other bodies scrambled out of the boats to aid in whatever way they could. 

It was another chaotic scene where order didn’t matter as much anymore. The only thing the paratroopers cared about was getting Jackson to Doc as fast as possible. 

“ _ Schnell! Schnell _ !” called Webster as he bolted through his fellow soldiers to lead them back to HQ. “Take cover!” 

***

The soldiers emerged through the basement doors of Battalion HQ quickly, still carrying Jackson as they frantically searched for Doc. Webster and Jones pushed the German prisoners into the corner, Webster yelling at them in rapid-fire German tongue. One of the other soldiers still held his pistol up at them in anger as Jackson cried out in pain, sometimes crying out for his mother. The other soldiers still felt the adrenaline rush from the patrol and wanted to kill the prisoners on sight for what they did to Jackson. 

“Someone go find Doc Roe. Now!” called Martin. Two runners left the building where the chaos was happening and left quickly to find their Cajun medic. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation Notes from German:  
> Raus: Out  
> Hände hoch: Hands up  
> Schnell: Quickly


	15. 05 February 1945, Haguenau, France: 186 miles from Foy, Belgium

Doc rested himself comfortably against the side of a building later that same evening. He reached inside of his uniform and took out some of Rachel’s old letters that she had sent him. They were still neatly folded and still in good condition for he couldn’t always stash them away into a box or something. He had been meaning to, but didn’t get any chance to for his mind was always preoccupied with trying to tend to the wounded as quickly as possible. Cautiously, he unfolded one of her letters and re-read it to himself silently. 

A gentle smile formed over his lips as he read her sweet words again, giving him comfort knowing he was going to see the girl he loved again. The others thought his chances of ever seeing her again were slim, but he didn’t listen to them. They say love makes a person crazy. Crazy, but in a good way. Doc never gave up hope and continued to pray for his beloved Rachel every night before he would fall asleep, like his grandmother taught him when he was a little boy. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. His mind grew more anxious and fearful for her safety. There had been times where he thought of sneaking away from the line to find Rachel himself, but quickly pushed the thought aside for he couldn’t leave his fellow soldiers. 

His heart ached for Rachel with each passing day. Some nights he couldn’t get himself to fall asleep quickly for he thought he could hear her voice just a few steps away, only to realize it was his mind playing tricks on him as usual. Doc’s thoughts were disrupted when he heard two pairs of boots running towards him, crunching over the snow in a hurry. He tucked his letter back into his uniform jacket, looking to see who the two strangers were.

“Doc!” called one of the Easy soldiers. Doc stepped away from the wall, a look of concern crossed over his child-like face. The soldiers faces were flushed from exertion as they tried to catch their breath in the crisp air. 

“What’s wrong?” said Doc, the look of concern still never left his handsome face. 

“They need you back at HQ,” said the other soldier. “It’s Jackson.” Doc didn’t have to be told twice to know that it was urgent. 

“Alright fellas follow me,” said Doc. He started sprinting back to Battalion HQ, the other two soldiers following closely behind. 

***

The soldiers surrounded Jackson and tried to keep him calm, still uncertain if anyone had found Doc. It didn’t help that the Germans were still squabbling with some of the other Easy Company soldiers rather loudly, only making the situation more stressful than it needed to be. 

“Where the hell is Doc?!” called one of the soldiers. Like it was some sort of summoning spell, Doc emerged through the doors and pushed his way through the crowd that was swarming the wounded soldier. 

“Coming through. Move it fellas,” said Doc. The whole room fell silent as soon as Doc spoke. “What happened?”

“Hit with his own grenade blast,” replied one of the soldiers. Doc nodded his head in understanding, quickly getting himself back into medic mode. The tensions in the room subsided upon hearing Doc’s sweet and soothing voice. A strange mixture of calm and efficiency wafted over the room like a haze as everyone’s attention focused on Doc. He placed his hands on Jackson’s face, one around his neck but lightly touching him with his long fingers, the other hand resting against his head with a cloth to stop the bleeding. 

“Okay, Jackson. You’re gonna be okay,” said Doc gently to the crying boy. “Shhh it’s alright, Jackson I gotcha.” His words weren’t enough to calm the young private for he still writhed in pain on the table. Doc needed something to take Jackson’s mind off of the pain he was still feeling. He could feel his lungs filling with his own blood, only causing him to freak out more. “I need a light. Anyone got a light?” 

The soldiers still held their stunned silence, each one of them quickly checking to see if they had a Zippo lighter that Doc could use. One of the soldiers found his, flicking the flame open and held it above Jackson’s good eye for him to see better. The room remained silent as Doc worked his magic.

“Alright look at the flame, Jackson,” he said soothingly. “Just look at the flame.” As if by magic, Jackson stopped freaking out, he started to go limp in Doc’s hands, giving the medic his full trust, still not knowing if he was gonna be okay or not. It was one touch of Doc’s hands, that’s when Jackson started feeling more relaxed and tried to continue focusing on the warm flame or Doc’s gentle voice. His breathing started going back to normal, the tension in the room disbursed, as Doc took his hands away, letting out his own breath of relief. “Alright he’s gonna be okay.”

The soldiers let out sighs and breaths of relief, patting each other gently on the back or gripping each other’s shoulders. Just hearing those few words was enough to give any soldier hope. They were able to breathe momentarily. Doc started treating Jackson as quickly and efficiently as possible, continuing to talk to him gently in case if he were to freak out again. 

“Okay, let’s get him off of the table,” said Doc to some of the other soldiers. They lifted Jackson up carefully and set him down on the ground so Doc had some more space to work. However, the calming effects of Doc’s touch and voice didn’t last long, for Jackson started coughing and crying more, his lungs pooling more with his own blood as Doc tried to calm him down again. Jackson gripped at his throat like he was clutching for dear life, coughing more as Doc held the wound with his fingers again.

“Jackson!” he called. It was too late. Doc had lost another man because he wasn’t quick enough. He sat back on his heels in defeat and held his hand up to his mouth, looking at the recently deceased soldier. He hung his head low and rubbed his eyes, then his forehead asking himself  _ What am I doing wrong? _ He wanted to throw his helmet, hit something or just scream, but Doc neither had the will or energy to do such things. He was too drained, too exhausted of seeing the same patterns happening more often than they should. Instead, he simply slipped his helmet off of his head and placed it next to him. 

Doc continued looking down at Jackson’s body sadly. Tears wanted to form in his eyes, but nothing flowed. His hands rested on his thighs as he looked up at his fellow soldiers sadly, Babe Heffron looking the most sympathetic. Doc didn’t know what to do. He held his hands in his lap and sat further back on his heels,the other soldiers bowing their heads in respect for their fallen comrade, some of the replacements started crying, or became even more furious at the Germans, wanting to murder them on the spot. Luckily, Lieutenant Jones was able to restore order shortly afterwards.

***

Doc held the side of his head up with his hand, the blank, thousand yard stare coming back again. His blue eyes seemed to have glazed over like it was a fog rolling across the ocean on a cold night. He felt tears pooling in the corners of them, not caring that a few stray tears rolled down his cheeks. He didn’t even bother to blink them away. His lips pursed into a grimace, he was almost frozen like a statue. He didn’t move from his spot for a good amount of time. 

Pointless. That’s how he was feeling for the past several months now. The longer the war dragged out, the more repetitive it seemed to get. It was the same thing everyday: a man gets hit, Doc was the one who would always be there. He no longer felt like a hero. Pointless. Stupid. Frustrating. Any other words that his brain could think of because he wasn’t as good at his job anymore. His smile seemed to have vanished completely into a permanent frown. He felt nothing but hatred. Hatred to the war for making him suffer for too long. Hatred for keeping him from being with his girlfriend and an even grander hatred for the man who started this whole thing in the first place, preventing his lover from still not being able to tell him where she is. 

But who could he fight? Who was the real “enemy?” Who still believed the war was worth fighting for? His mind continued to wander as Babe Heffron walked in carrying a cup of coffee and a small ration of food. Doc didn’t even acknowledge his presence, let alone hear him enter, until he heard the floorboards creak. He turned around seeing the ginger-haired soldier holding the cup out to him. 

“Thanks, Edward,” said Doc sullenly. Normally, Babe would snub at Doc for calling him by his first name, but dismissed the thought seeing how upset and how damaged his friend looked. Doc just held the cup in his hands, staring down at the black liquid steaming in front of his face. He didn’t drink the liquid. He placed the tin next to him and folded his hands together. Babe sat next to the medic and rested his elbows against his thighs and held his hands together. 

“You’re still upset about Jackson, huh?” he said. Doc shrugged his shoulders, his lips rested behind his hands as he let those thought sit in his mind.

“Guess that’s one thing you could say,” said Doc quietly. He took the small food rations and held them in his hands, staring at them as if to see they were going to give him an answer. 

“Eugene,” said Babe. Doc continued looking at the rations blankly. Babe took the food away from him and opened it, holding close to his face. “Eat it.” Doc took the rations back and took a small bite of the rations. He finished swallowing as he heaved a sigh.

“Why are we still here, Heffron?” said Doc in the same reserved tones. He rested his knuckles underneath his chin. “Why are we still fighting in this goddamn thing?” Babe remained silent when Doc asked him those questions. Even he didn’t know the answer to that. Doc took Rachel’s headscarf out of his pocket and sighed. He bit the inside of his cheek, hoping his thoughts were going to reach Rachel to see if she could give him some answers to his questions in a feeble attempt.

“I know how much you miss your girl, Gene,” said Babe tenderly. Doc heaved another sigh as he kept looking at her headscarf. Babe placed a hand on Doc’s shoulder, squeezing it gently to give him some form of reassurance. “I betcha she misses you like crazy too. Hell, she’s probably still wondering where  _ you _ are right now! I can guarantee it, she’s probably thinking of you right this minute. And...something tells me she’s feeling the exact same way you’re feeling about the war at this stage.”

“I just wanna know if she’s safe and that she’s still okay,” said Doc softly. He looked at his girlfriend’s head scarf again, pinching a corner with his fingers. “That too much to ask for? What I wouldn’t give to see her again.”

“And you will,” assured Babe. “You know what they say; when two hearts meet after being apart for a time, the world fades away as they meet and share the purest love. They are invincible at that moment, and that is the magic of their love.” Doc raised his eyebrows in speculation. He was both impressed and shocked hearing those words come out of Babe’s mouth.

“When the hell did you start sounding so wise?” he said. 

“Guess I’ve been hanging around Webster too much,” said Babe letting out a chuckle as he shrugged his shoulders. “But it is true what I said. You’re gonna be reunited with Rachel a lot sooner than you think. Just gotta keep your chin up. It’s what she would want you to do.” Doc’s glum expression changed into a smile. He turned towards Babe and did the unthinkable and hugged the South Philly boy. Babe was taken aback by Doc’s unusual affection but returned the hug, patting his shoulder.

“Thanks, Babe,” said Doc against his shoulder. The men broke away from their hug and held each other’s shoulders. “Now can we stop sitting? My legs fell asleep.”

“Yeah,” said Babe. He stood up first and pulled Doc up. They threw their arms around each other’s shoulders as they walked back into the basement at Battalion HQ.

***

Early the next morning, Winters and Nixon stood close to the river observing the damage that had been done from the patrol last night in silence.

“So he knows we lost a man?” said Winters finally breaking the silence.

“Yeah. He knows,” said Nixon, his breath clouding in the cold February air. “He also knows you picked up two prisoners who talked.”

“About what?” said Winters, his gaze still heavily focused on the building across the river.

“OB, uh supply trouble, Hitler’s favorite color, “ said Nixon even realizing his own words weren’t what Winters wanted to hear. “I don’t know. None of it gets us across the river.” Winters let out a sigh and turned towards his best friend. 

“What’s the point?” he said softly. He had a feeling that those two prisoners weren’t enough and that they were going to have to get more, a thought Winters wanted to push out of his mind as much as possible. He turned back towards the river.

“Honestly,” said Nixon. “Sink’s been on the phone all day bragging it up. I think he’s just showing off now.” Winters glanced up towards the sky that sounded like planes flying overhead as a couple rounds of gunshots echoed in the distance. “I don’t know, Dick. I don’t know what to tell you. He gave him a successful patrol, now he wants two.”

“Successful,” muttered Winters. Speirs walked up to the two soldiers overlooking the river. 

“Sir,” said Speirs. He licked his lips to keep them from chapping in the cold air. “I you want me to brief them, I’m gonna. The same roster as last night. Well, mostly.” A jeep pulled up next to the three officers. Sink stepped forward to greet them.

“Evening, gents,” said Sink. He stepped up towards the river and turned to his three officers. “Y’all did a damn fine job on a tough mission last night. Wanna wish you good luck tonight cause I’d be expecting more of the same.” Winters knew Sink was gonna say that. He felt his stomach drop lower into the pit as he held his arms. He knew it was a bad idea to send more men just to get more prisoners. “Have you briefed the men?”

“Uh just on our way, sir,” said Nixon. He felt it in Dick’s countenance. Even he knew it wasn’t a smart decision. 

“Alright,” said Sink. “But damn sure you remind them of how proud I am for what they did.”

“Yes sir,” said Nixon. Sink saluted the three gentlemen before heading back to the jeep. Winters dropped his arms next to him trying to think of something that he could do. He needed to act quickly.

“So I’ll brief them now sir?” asked Speirs. Winters kept looking over the river trying to process what Sink had just told them.

“No,” he replied after another long moment of silence. “No. I’ll do it.” He turned on his heel, Speirs and Nixon following him closely behind back to Battalion HQ.

***

“Ten hut!” called Sgt. Martin. The soldiers stood up quickly and straightened themselves up as Winters entered in the basement. He rubbed his hands together and looked at each one of his soldiers. Through stoic faces, the other soldiers patiently awaited for Winters to give them news.

“Martin,” said Winters.

“Sir,” replied Martin. Winters stepped further into the room until he was centered, Nixon and Speris trailing behind him.

“At ease,” said Winters. The soldiers relaxed as Winters continued to make his way further into the room and continued rubbing his hands. “This everybody, Grant?

“Yes sir,” replied Grant. Eyes followed their old CO, still patiently waiting to hear what they had to do next as some flicked their cigarette lighters open to light up and smoke. Winters took his helmet off of his head.

“You men did an excellent job last night,” he said. “I’m proud---I’m proud. I just saw Colonel Sink he’s proud too in fact he’s so proud, he wants you to do another patrol across the river tonight.” The soldiers looked up at Winters as they processed the last set of words that poured out of his mouth. Everyone knew it was a bad idea and too much of a risk but they couldn’t argue. It was the exact reaction Winters was expecting, the heaviness of what happened last night still lingered in the air. 

“Any moment now, the outpost we hit last night will go up in flames? Martin?” said Winters as he checked his watch. 

“Yes,sir,” replied Sgt. Martin. 

“Means we’d have to venture farther into town this time,” said Winters. “Captain Speirs you have the map, please?” Speirs rubbed one of his eyes.

“Yeah,” he replied. “Sgt. Grant.” Speirs gave the map to Grant. The sergeant unfolded the large piece of paper and placed it in front of Winters for everyone to see.

“We have enemy movement here and here,” said Winters. “Which means this is our new house target here. Recovered all the boats, so we’ll be setting off from the same place we did last night.”

“We’re not changing the plan any, sir?” said Martin a little concerned about how this operation was going to be carried out. Winters continued looking at the map before looking at Martin to answer his question.

“No,” replied Winters. “Plan is the same. Uh, will be zero two hundred hours instead of zero one hundred. That clear?”

“Yes, sir,” replied the soldiers out of sync in low mumbles. 

“Okay,” said Winters. “Good because uh---want you all to get a full night’s sleep tonight.” Silence wafted over the room once again, but this time out of confusion. “Which means in the morning you will report to me that you made it across the river, into German lines---were unable to secure any live prisoners.” The soldiers still listened intently to make sure there was no cotton in their ears. “Understand?”

“Yes, sir,” came the out of sync reply from the soldiers again, but with a bit more lilt in their voices.

“Good,” said Winters. “Look sharp for tomorrow. We’re moving off the line.” He left his soldiers, knowing that what he did could get him into serious trouble, but he wasn’t going to risk it. The tension in the room softened as the soldiers shook each other’s hands, sharing smokes with each other and clapping each other on the back knowing that no one else was gonna die tonight.

***

The next morning, the soldiers started to load up the trucks whether it was the equipment they were carrying or themselves, offering each other a hand to help get up into the trucks. Sgt. Martin shook hands with Lieutenant Jones commemorating him for a job well done as Joseph Liebgott offered a hand to David Webster. 

Doc was happy that they were finally getting off of the line for a breather. He continued to hold Rachel’s head scarf against his heart in hopes that what Babe Heffron told him was true and he was going to be reunited with his beloved Rachel once again. He also wondered if people back home would ever know what it would cost the soldiers to win the war. In America, however it was starting to look like peace time; standard of living was on the rise, racetracks and nightclubs started booming again. He also wondered how his family was doing. His thoughts were disrupted as an explosion went off at the outpost, sending pieces of the building skyward. Some of the soldiers ducked and hit the deck, but cheered once they realized it was the building they went to last night. Soon, the trucks would be heading into the one place they had been desiring to get to since the beginning of the war; Germany.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally finished chapter 15! I can't wait to start writing the next few chapters! Finals have been consuming my life since there's only two weeks left of school, hence the reason for the delayed update but I promise more good things are to come with this story! Thank you to the person who left a Kudos I appreciate it greatly! As always I would love to hear feedback from you guys! Hope you're enjoying everything so far.


	16. 19 April 1945, Stürzelberg, Germany: 225 miles from Haguenau, France

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen to these songs throughout the chapter:  
> 1\. The Road to Berlin-Michael Giacchino (Medal of Honor)  
> 2\. Homecoming-Hans Zimmer (The Pacific)  
> 3\. As Time Goes By-Vera Lynn   
> 4\. In The Mood-Glenn Miller  
> 5\. American Patrol (Remastered 2002)-Glenn Miller  
> *These songs are in the correct order for my "Songs of WWII" playlist. Please see the link at the start of the work to access it by copying and pasting it into your browser*

Spring couldn’t have come at a better moment. Easy Company had finally arrived in Germany after suffering for months under a blanket of ice and snow, which meant that the Germans were starting to lose more steam in trying to keep the fight alive. Doc breathed in the fresh air, taking in the sweet scent of flowers, a scent he thought would never smell again. The skies were the clearest blue he had ever seen, perhaps in comparison to those wide Louisiana skies that seemed to go on for miles. 

“Boy I love Germany!” said Spina. The two medics were walking with George Luz and Frank Perconte to see if they could wrangle up some food. “Great food, great places to sleep, I tell you it looks like it’s gonna be good fraternizing territory!”

“Nah Spina, “ chuckled Luz. “Gene’s already got a girl he wants to fraternize with!” Doc held back a chuckle as he held his helmet underneath his arm and looked towards the ground smiling at his shoes. “I hope you fellas are hungry.”

“Starving,” said Doc. “Whatcha making?”

“My famous omelette!” said Luz. 

“Hey George don’t you need I dunno eggs to make an omelette?” said Frank. Luz smiled a gleeful smile.

“That my dear friends is the reason why we’re here!” said Luz. The group came across what looked like an unoccupied farm with several chickens going in and out of a farmhouse with a large pen on another side. “You guys coming or what?” Doc and Spina gave each other looks thinking it wasn’t too smart of an idea to break into someone’s property. 

“I think we’ll stay out here and keep watch, George,” said Doc. 

“Alright,” said Luz. “We’ll make sure to save you some eggs.” Luz and Perconte went inside of the farm to grab some food. Doc chuckled as he twirled his helmet around in his hands. He sighed to himself as he took in the beautiful scenery around him. 

“You think Rachel would like to visit this place, Spina?” said Doc wistfully. 

“I’m sure she would,” said Spina. “It’s a beautiful country. Perfect place for a romantic stroll through the countryside.” Suddenly, cheerful laughter sounded like it was coming towards their direction. Doc nearly froze for he could recognize that laughter almost anywhere, but he had to make sure. Two women were coming towards their general direction but they were far away to make out any faces. Doc did a double take for one of the women he saw had dark brown hair similar to Rachel’s. He heard them speaking but it wasn’t German; American English. The woman with the dark brown hair started laughing again, presumably at something the other woman said.

_ Can it be?! Is that Rachel?! _ He prayed.

“Will you excuse me for a moment Spina?” said Doc as he squinted his eyes at the brunette. He felt a gravitational pull towards the cheerful noise, his heart racing for he hoped it truly was his beloved Rachel. Doc moved away from Spina, still captivated by that innocent laughter, nearly breaking into a run. The girl came into better view, giving Doc a good look at her face; his heart nearly leapt out of his chest with joy. He kept a safe distance, admiring how beautiful she was, his palms becoming clammy and a light pink tinting his handsome cheeks. Tears of joy welled in the corners of his blue eyes like he was a river passing over rocks after a heavy rainstorm. Doc cleared his throat and straightened his fatigues, standing tall, even though butterflies danced in his stomach. He called out to her, the delivery a bit louder than how he wanted it.

“Rachel!” The girl turned away from the person she was having a conversation with upon hearing her name being spoken, her brown wavy locks bouncing gently when she turned her head as the other woman waved to Rachel as she continued on her way, leaving her alone.

“Eugene?” She said as she began making her way towards him. Her step quickened upon realizing it was the man whom she truly loved, her smile plastered on her face. “Eugene!” Doc sprinted to her, Rachel doing the same as she ran to her lover. They met in the middle embracing tightly, afraid if either one were to let go, they would lose each other again. Tears of joy trailed down both of their pale cheeks holding each other and touching each other to make sure they weren’t going crazy.

“I thought I lost you forever!” said Doc against her head. His fingers tangled in her locks, not caring that his tears were falling into her hair. 

“I thought I was never going to see you again,” chuckled Rachel through her tears. They looked at each other with smiles as tears flowed down both of their faces. Doc held Rachel’s cheeks in his hands and pushed her tears away with his thumbs, before capturing her in a long and passionate kiss he was so deprived of for several months, desperately wanting to savor the taste of his girlfriend’s lips forever. They didn’t break the kiss until he felt Rachel’s chest heave. The two lovers rested their foreheads against one another’s, smiles plastered to their faces as their laughter echoed and almost blended into one another’s. 

“Oh, Rachel. Let me look at you!” said Doc. He placed his hands on her cheeks , his fingers playing with her hair as he gazed into those brown eyes he fell so madly in love with, still awestruck that she was really here in front of him. Her hair wasn’t as long as he remembered. It felt lighter and much shorter, but looked much healthier and still very soft to the touch. He pushed strands of hair away from her eyes. That handsome smile Rachel had come to know and love formed over his lips. “God, you're beautiful! How did you survive the bombings?” Rachel brushed her thumbs against his cheeks gently wiping away the stray tears.

“Bombings? What bombings?” said Rachel.

“Bastogne,” said Doc. “I went to the aid station to see you but the Germans--they destroyed it--I found your headscarf---I thought you were dead! God, Rachel you have no idea how happy I am to see you again!” Doc embraced her tightly as his fingers gripped the back of her hair, taking in her sweet comfort. She rested her head against his chest, a gentle smile formed over her lips as Doc kissed the top of her head, still holding her close to him. 

“It's alright, Gene,” said Rachel gently. “We’re together now. That's what matters.” Doc continued to hold Rachel tightly stealing kisses from her perfectly pink lips, completely overwhelmed with joy. “Eugene---oh!” He stole another kiss from her lips, kissing her slowly, causing a small chuckle to escape from her lips.

“Sorry,” said Doc giving a small chuckle back in response. “I just love you so much!”

“I love you too!” chuckled Rachel. Doc stole several more kisses from her lips, preventing her from trying to explain how she survived. “To answer your question as to how I survived I escaped.” Doc held his girlfriend’s arms tenderly and gave her his full attention. “Before the Germans began their attack, Renée---” her voice almost caught in her throat when she said her best friend’s name. She fell silent and felt tears wanting to cloud her vision again but she quickly swallowed them down and cleared her throat before speaking again.

“Renée told me to start helping people to evacuate. The other medics and nurses were able to move some of the wounded elsewhere. Once the sirens started going off, I was about to go back to the aid station, except Renée told me to run. I thought she was close behind me but---” Her brown eyes pooled with tears. She rested her head against Doc’s chest to hide her tears and cried softly. “---she was gone. I lost my best friend.” Doc’s heart sunk further into his chest. He wrapped his arms around Rachel and kissed the top of her head, rubbing her back gently, just letting her cry for as long as she needed to. 

“It’s alright, babydoll,” said Doc gently. He kissed her head again and felt her taking deep breaths to recompose herself. “Was this the place you were hiding in the whole time when Hitler launched his counterattack?” 

“No,” said Rachel. “I moved around for a bit. Made my way to another part of Belgium, then to France. I lay low there until they gave us the all clear. The aid station I was at moved us to Germany, been here ever since.” Doc smiled at his girlfriend in admiration. 

“You’re amazing. I hope you know that, right?” he said, earning himself a giggle from her. 

“Girl’s gotta do what she can to survive,” chuckled Rachel. “I missed you, Gene.”

“I missed you too, babydoll,” said Doc smiling. He kissed her a bit more gently this time, still holding the side of her face, kissing her softly and slowly, pulling his lips away from hers gently, both of them smiling at one another as Rachel bit her lip playfully. Something was different about Doc, except Rachel couldn't put her finger on what it was. She touched his face realizing he no longer had his stubble. “You shaved!”

Whatcha think, babydoll?” said Doc chuckling. He ran his hand over his face, sometimes gesturing with his hand smiling an award winning smile. “You like it?”

“I do!” said Rachel chuckling. She rested her hands against his cheeks. “Your face! It's so smooth! Oh gosh! I don't know which look I like better! You look good with both scruff and baby face!”

“Thank you,” he said with a humble chuckle. “Makes it easier to get ready in the mornings for me.” Rachel chuckled as she stole a gentle kiss from his lips. She snaked an arm around his waist, resting her head against his chest. 

“Speaking of changes, I like your haircut,” he smiled as he played with some of the ends. 

“I needed it badly,” chuckled Rachel. “It was getting too knotted and gross.”

“It’s a good length for you, babydoll,” said Doc smiling. “You should keep it.” Rachel smiled one of those smiles that made his heart skip a beat. 

“I received your care package,” she said. “Thank you it was very thoughtful of you.”

“Well, I didn’t want you to suffer in trying to find a scrap of food,” said Doc still with that smile on his face. He kissed the side of Rachel’s head and rubbed her arm as they started to walk back towards the barn Spina, Luz and Perconte were at. 

“You still owe me a date,” said Rachel in a singsong voice. Doc let out a sheepish chuckle and rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand.

“Yes ma’am I do owe you a date!” he said letting out his sheepish chuckle, mentally facepalming himself for not asking Rachel out sooner when they were in Bastogne but quickly pushed his guilty conscience to the side. “You doing anything later today?” 

“No,” said Rachel. “I’m free all day. What about you?”

“I don't have anything scheduled,” said Doc. “Whaddya say to maybe going out to lunch with me? I'm getting tired of eating K-rations.” Rachel chuckled as she fixed his uniform collar.

“Lunch, would be great!” she said smiling. The two lovers walked back to where Spina was standing, who was holding back a chuckle as Luz and Frank emerged from the barn. 

“Spina, what’s going on?” said Doc. “Oh Spina, this is my girlfriend, Rachel. Rach, this is my best friend Ralph Spina.” Spina quickly swallowed his laughter and turned towards Doc and Rachel.

“Ah so you’re the famous Rachel Gene keeps talking about!” beamed Spina. He stuck his hand out for Rachel to shake. “Pleasure to finally meet you in person!” Rachel shook Spina’s hand firmly and smiled at him.

“Nice to meet you too,” she said. Spina gave a look of approval to Doc, earning himself a broad smile from his friend. 

“What were you laughing about?” asked Doc. 

“Why don’t you ask Luz,” chuckled Spina. Frank kept walking further ahead of Luz, making his friend jog to catch up to him.

“Hey, Frank!” called Luz. “Hold on. Perc! Jesus, come on.” Before the two soldiers got to Doc and Spina, a jeep drove by with what looked like Captain Nixon’s outline but the jeep drove by too quickly to distinguish any features. “What? That Captain Nixon?”

“I think so,” said Frank, slowing his step so Luz could catch up to him easier. 

“What the hell is he doing in his harness?” said Luz.

“I don’t know,” replied Frank. “Maybe we’ve jumped into Berlin and the war’s over.”

“Yeah, huh?” said Luz. He extended his mouth open and moved his jaw to make sure it wasn’t locked as he rubbed his cheek.

“So, what happened?” said Frank trying to hold back a snicker. “No dice with the Fräulein?”

“No dice,” said Luz still massaging his cheek. “She smacked me in the mouth.” Frank hid his snickering behind his fist. 

“You lose your cigarette?” said Frank beaming. 

“Unfortunately, yes I did,” said Luz, a bit more upset that he lost his Lucky Strikes to a German girl, however his disappointment changed upon seeing Rachel, making him forget about being smacked across the face. They approached the rest of the group.

“No luck, huh?” said Doc. 

“No luck,” replied Luz. His disappointed expression changed to a poor attempt at a flirty smirk when he saw Rachel. “Miss, I don’t believe we’ve met. George Luz. Bringer of good spirits, laughs and good times all around, how you doin’?” Rachel chuckled as she turned towards Doc. 

“Fellas, this is Rachel, the girl I was telling you about,” said Doc. Luz soon realized how weird he must have sounded in front of Doc and Rachel.

“Wait---this is?” stammered Luz. His eyes widened before he quickly bowed his head to Rachel as he kneeled before her and kissed her hand like she was royalty. “My sincerest apologies, madam for my behavior. I must say, Gene here is a lucky man to land such a fine young lady as yourself. Oh Gene she’s even prettier in person! Just like you described her!”

“Hey big mouth,” chuckled Frank as he clapped Luz on the back of his shoulder. “Why don’t you give Gene’s girl a little elbow room. Sure she’s had a long day. Where are my manners?” Frank stuck his hand out for Rachel to shake and she took it gracefully. “Frank Perconte. Nice to meet you, Rachel.”

“It’s nice to meet you too,” said Rachel smiling. 

“So Miss Rachel, where you from?” said Luz.

“Boston, Massachusetts,” said Rachel proudly. Luz’s eyes doubled in size as a broad smile like he had just made a new friend on the fly.

“Massachusetts really?!” he said elatedly. “You gotta be shitting me! I was born in Fall River!”

“That’s really close to me!” said Rachel nearly gasping in excitement. “Where do you reside now?”

“Rhode Island,” said Luz. Both of their eyes seemed to light up realizing they had lived so close to each other, only realizing it now. They shook each other’s hands again and smiled broadly and laughed. “I like this girl! You know, Rachel I think you and I are gonna be good friends! Gene, hold on to her. She’s a good woman!” Doc tried to hold back his laughter but he couldn’t. 

“I know she’s a good woman,” he chuckled as he wrapped an arm around Rachel’s waist before kissing her cheek. “I love her.” 

“Awww,” gushed Frank and Luz at the same time. Spina’s stomach gurgled loudly. He placed his hands over his stomach to try and quiet the noises but it was no use.

“I hate to break up such a tender-loving moment between my best friend and his girl, but I’m still hungry! I haven’t eaten anything yet!” he said.

“Come to think of it, I’m still hungry too,” said Doc. 

“Let’s see if we can find a bakery or something,” said Rachel. “There’s gotta be something that can satisfy our hunger pains. Plus I’d like to get to know your friends more, babe.”

“That sounds like a great idea,” said Doc. “All in favor if Rach tags along with us to find some food?”

“Aye!” said Luz, Frank and Spina all at once, earning themselves a chuckle from Doc and Rachel. 

“Alright then,” chuckled Doc. “Without any further objection, best be on our way.” He interlaced his fingers with Rachel’s as they walked back into town for breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awww I love happy reunions!! Doc deserves it especially after all he's been through. Yep get those tissues ready! Not gonna lie I teared up writing this because this moment is just so sweet. Plus we get more funny moments from Luz. As soon as school is finished, I'm going to try to write/post more chapters. It's just this last full week of classes is kicking my butt and I am so ready for this semester to be done! But as always I hope you guys enjoyed reading this chapter and as always, feedback is welcomed! It's the theatre person in me haha! I like knowing what's working for y'all and what I can improve on!


	17. 19 April 1945, Stürzelberg, Germany: 225 miles from Haguenau, France

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Listen to this song during Eugene's date and when he's writing his letter.  
> Faraway Places-Vera Lynn: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ivry2Q3mrYc&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=71

The soldiers gathered in the town square later that same day. Doc and Rachel sat towards the back chatting amongst themselves or laughing, presumably at something they said to each other after an enjoyable breakfast date with Spina and Luz. Some of the other soldiers smoked cigarettes and chatted amongst themselves as Nixon stood at the front. He held a clipboard in his hands and began to read.

“The Cooperative for American Remittance to Europe food care has begun assembling food packs to assist those European families in dire need,” he read. He brought his head up to meet the other soldiers. “Presumably all of them. So notes to all your family reminding them to donate whatever they can would be much appreciated.” Nixon flipped through the papers that were attached.

“I’m sure that you’ll all be happy to know that  _ Oklahoma! _ Is still playing on Broadway.” Luz’s face beamed into a smile, despite the cigarette hanging out of his mouth, followed by a chorus of cheers from the other Easy Company soldiers. Luz leading them in joyful singing. 

_ “Oklahoma when the winds come sweeping down the plain and the wavin’ wheat can sure smell sweet, when the wind comes--” _

__ _ “--right behind the rain!” _ a soldier named O’Keefe sang a bit too long after the other soldiers had finished singing, earning himself a chorus of laughs. 

“O’Keefe, are you sitting on your bayonette there?” said Christenson. “Why don’t you leave the singing to Luz?” O’Keefe felt ashamed for making a fool of himself and sunk back into his seat.

“Yeah, unless you wanna do like ‘Surrey With the Fringe on Top’, O’Keefe,” suggested Luz trying to lift the replacement’s spirits. Nixon continued to flip through what else he needed to say on his clipboard.

“Awww,” he said, his voice laced with disappointment. “Rita Hayworth’s getting married.”

“Oh, Rita, say it isn’t true,” said Luz sadly, earning himself a chuckle from Doc and Rachel. “It just ain’t my day today huh?!”

“Hey don’t worry, George,” chuckled Doc. “You’re gonna find a girl who’s gonna laugh at all your jokes and think you’re the most handsome man she’s ever laid eyes on.” 

“Easy for you to say,” he said faking a pout, earning himself another round of chuckles from Rachel and Doc. 

“Abbott and Costello,” said Nixon. “Wartime News: Resistance in Ruhr’s crumbling. It looks like there might be a breakout in Remagen. Apparently the Krauts forgot to blow up one of their bridges when they headed back over the Rhine.” Nixon took his clipboard away from his face and tucked it under his arm. “I guess the boys in the 17th Airborne did okay, after all.” 

“Ah, forget it,” said Luz. He wore a baseball glove on one hand, the other was tossing a baseball in and out of it. “We’d be in Berlin by now, sir, if it was us instead of them, huh?”

***

Doc and Rachel walked in the square later that afternoon as soon as Nixon’s current events lecture was finished. They walked hand-in hand looking for a place where they could grab lunch. The sky was partly cloudy now but the clouds would often drift in front of or away from the sun, sometimes casting large shadows behind the lovers. 

“You know Rach, there were a couple of times I wanted to sneak away from the line to try and find you,” said Doc. He looked over at Rachel as they continued their walk. 

“Really?” said Rachel. Their pace had slowed a bit as Doc wrapped an arm around her waist. 

“Yeah. I thought about doing it a couple of times,” said Doc. 

“What kept you from wanting to do that?” said Rachel. 

“I couldn’t leave the men,” said Doc looking back over at Rachel. “I mean, Spina was there in case if something bad were to happen to me but I couldn’t leave him by himself to take care of everyone. It’s a lot for one person.” Rachel’s lips curved into that smile he had grown so fond of. 

“You really are a good man, Eugene,” she said. 

“Though I may not outright say it, I do care about my fellow troops,” said Doc. “I think it’s because I don’t talk to the others as much.”

“Medic mentality?” said Rachel. Doc smiled towards the ground.

“Well I guess you could call it that,” he chuckled. “That, or I have a difficult job.” Rachel chuckled as she rested her head against his shoulder. “There was one time I yelled at my superior officers for giving a man too much morphine.” Rachel’s eyes doubled in size. 

“Really,” she said astonished. “My boyfriend, a mild-mannered and usually quiet man yelled at his superiors?” Doc nodded his head and scratched the back of his neck. The memory still resonated in his mind. He could still see it clear as day.

***

It was Halloween. Easy Company was still stationed in Holland after their forced retreat from Eindhoven last month. Moose Heyliger had just been shot three times by accident from a replacement. 

_ “Stretcher!”  _ he heard Winters yell. He could hear the jeep roll up as he rushed to the side to grab Heyliger. He remembered how badly his shoulder was bleeding and couldn’t tell if he was breathing or not for he was so still.

_ “I got him. I got him, Harry,”  _ he said as he got his grip on Moose’s arm.  _ “Did you give him morphine?” _

_ “Yeah,”  _ replied Welsh. 

_ “How much?” _

_ “I can’t remember”  _ said Welsh.  _ “Two? Three syrettes maybe?” _ He remembered how shocked he must have looked to his officers when Welsh said that, not happy with the answer that came out of Welsh’s mouth. 

_ “Three syrettes maybe?”  _ he said, the agitation lacing his voice. 

_ “Yeah…” _ said Welsh warily.

_ “Jesus Christ were you trying to kill him?!”  _ he remembered himself saying. They put Moose on the ground to put him on the stretcher easier .

_ “It was two,”  _ said Welsh trying to cover up his mistake.

_ “You don’t think it might be important to let me know how much medication the man has had huh? ‘Cause I do not see one syrette on the man’s jacket!” _

_ “Sorry, Doc,” _ said Welsh, the guilt laced in his voice. The three of them hoisted Moose into the back of the medic truck. 

_ “Sure is a good thing he a big man. Maybe he stand a chance,”  _ he said, making sure Moose was situated properly.

_ “He was in a lot of pain, Doc we didn’t know what to do,”  _ replied Welsh.

_ “Yeah, well you oughta. You know you are officers, you are grownups, you oughta know!” _

“Eugene?” said Rachel. She tugged on the sleeve of his uniform a couple of times to pull him out of his trance. 

“Huh? What? Did you say something, babydoll?” said Doc. He shook his head and blinked his eyes a couple of times. 

“I was asking if this looked like a good spot for lunch,” said Rachel. Doc blinked his eyes again and felt his cheeks flush, realizing he was probably staring out into space again. 

“Oh! Yeah! Uh--I mean yes this looks like a lovely spot,” he said trying not to ramble, earning himself a chuckle from his girlfriend. 

“It’s nice to see some things never change,” she said before placing a kiss on his lips. “It’s a good thing you’re cute and I love you.” 

“Sorry Rach,” he said sheepishly. “I didn’t meant to zone out there. Got caught up in my own thoughts again. What was I talking about again?” Rachel chuckled as she interlaced her fingers with her boyfriend’s. 

“You were talking about how you yelled at your superiors for administering too much morphine,” said Rachel. 

“Oh right I did,” chuckled Doc. “I didn’t get in trouble, miraculously.” 

“If I was in the same position, I would have scolded my superiors,”’ said Rachel. They came to a little outdoor restaurant. It was a bit crowded but the food smelt heavenly too the both of them, perhaps the first real amount of food either one of them would want instead of whatever was in MRE tins. “Do you have orders to another part of Germany?”

“Unfortunately,” sighed Doc. “But I don’t think there’s gonna be any casualties to deal with hopefully.” 

“Where to specifically?” said Rachel. 

“Landsberg, I think,” said Doc. He looked down at his shoes, feeling his shoulders grow heavy. “The moment we’re reunited, the war has to keep us apart again. I just want to spend more than a few minutes with you, Rach.” Rachel placed her hand on top of his, rubbing her thumb on the outside in an attempts to get him to look at her.

“Hey,” said Rachel gently. Doc didn’t bring his head up. He bit his lower lip heaving another sigh. “Gene? Look at me.” Doc brought his head up slowly. “Don’t dwell so much on the time that we can’t have. Instead, focus on the time that we’re given now and spending it together. I know. It seems like we only spend a short amount of time whenever we meet, but I’d rather have that, than have no time spent at all with you.” Her lips curved into a wise, but somehow innocent smile. “The war may keep us apart from time to time, but that only makes what we have stronger. It gives us something to keep fighting for.” 

Doc’s frown transformed into a broad and dreamy smile. He took a hold of Rachel’s other hand and kissed it. He let out a dreamy sigh in adoration.

“How the hell did I get so lucky?” he said never taking his eyes away from Rachel. Her smile widened as she chuckled. She leaned across the table and rested on her elbows, gazing into his sweet blue eyes as she gave him a kiss.

“I love you,” she said. 

“I love you too, Rach,” said Doc smiling as he looked at her lips. They stole another long kiss from each other until it was time to order their lunch.

***

“Jesus Christ. The dog?” yelled Nixon. The soldiers gathered in the loading area before their next area of departure. Winters looked at his friend with concern. 

“Lew?” said Winters raising one of his eyebrows. Nixon looked over the telegram he had just received. He crumpled it up furiously trying not to become too angry.

“Cathy’s divorcing me,” he said dejectedly. Winters’ look of concern faded away from his face.

“I’m sorry,” he said sympathetically. Nixon stormed past several of the vehicles to try and get his thoughts wrapped around what he had just read.

“She’s taking everything,” said Nixon, his voice getting gradually louder. “She’s taking the house, taking the kid, she’s taking the dog. It’s not even her dog. It’s my dog! She’s taking my dog!” Nixon threw his helmet to the ground in frustration earning himself some strange looks from some of the soldiers behind him. 

“Let’s go! Load it up! Come on!” called Christenson. He clapped his hands together to try to get the soldiers loaded up as quickly as possible. Doc and Rachel stood off to the side as the other soldiers loaded up themselves and their equipment. 

“How much longer do you need to stay here, Rach?” asked Doc. He never let go of her hands and looked into her eyes. 

“Not for much longer,” said Rachel. “They’re moving some of us to where you guys are going. Myself included. We’ll be right behind you but about an hour later.” Doc’s lips formed a toothy smile. It was a rarity to see her boyfriend show teeth when he smiled. Despite being trapped in Bastogne for months, his teeth were very healthy and seemed to emulate a new glow to them. 

“Alright,” said Doc. He pulled Rachel into another long kiss, only to get some wolf whistles and ogling from the other soldiers, specifically Luz and Perconte. The two broke their kiss and looked towards the soldiers. 

“Hey ain’t you seen two people in love before?” joked Doc. The other soldiers and Rachel laughed at his response, making Doc smile more. He turned back towards Rachel. “I’ll see you soon, babydoll.” He gave Rachel a quick kiss before heading to the trucks. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” said Rachel. Doc fixed his helmet and ran to the truck Babe and Spina were sitting in and took their hands as the trucks rolled forward. Doc waved to Rachel as the vehicles rolled by her, earning himself some cheeky looks from Babe and Spina. 

***

The trucks rolled down a wide open road with perhaps the greenest grass the soldiers have ever seen. The mood of the men was content. Their spirits were high and hopeful, but maybe not as much as Doc. He was having fun again. His face seemed to have a never ending smile, a rare sight his fellow soldiers had the opportunity to witness along with him singing, soon joining him shortly afterwards.

_ “--he ain’t gonna jump no more. Glory, glory what a hell of a way to die, glory, glory what a hell of a way to die, glory, glory what a hell of a way to die. The lines all wrapped around his neck , the D rings broke his dome, his lift webs wrapped themselves in knots around each skinny bone, the canopy became his shroud as he hurtled to the ground, he ain’t gonna jump no more. Glory, glory what a hell of a way to die, glory, glory what a hell of a way to die, glory, glory what a hell of a way to die, he ain’t gonna jump no more!” _ Everyone sang loud and clear, except for Captain Nixon.

“You okay, Nix?” said Winters. 

“Yeah I’m fine,” replied Nixon bitterly. “She hates that dog.”

_ “He hit the ground the sound was ‘splat’, the blood was spurting high, his comrades were heard to say oh what a hell of a way to die...He ain’t gonna jump no more. Glory, glory what a hell of a way to die, glory, glory--” _

“--what a hell of a way to die...what a hell of a way to die…” said Nixon.

_ “--he ain’t gonna jump no more!” _

The trucks continued their drive down the German country roads. Spina took a drag of a cigarette. 

“So what are you gonna do now that you know Rachel’s still alive, Gene?” called Spina over the loud rumbling of the vehicles. 

“I dunno,” called Doc. “Once the time is right, I’ll introduce her to my family. Maybe once the war’s over, I’ll bring her to Louisiana or I’ll go visit her in Boston, whichever she prefers of course.”

“Whaddaya gonna do after the war?” said Spina. 

“I haven’t thought about that yet,” said Doc. “But I do know one thing. I wanna ask Rachel to marry me.”

“‘Atta boy, Gene!” beamed Spina. His fellow medic clapped him on the back proudly. “You got a ring?”

“I’ve kept it on me since the beginning of the war,” called Doc. “It was my grandma’s.” 

“Awww ain’t that sweet,” said Spina. Doc chuckled as he relaxed against his seat and cracked his back. 

“Don’t worry, Ralph. I want you and Heffron to be a part of it,” said Doc.

“Be a part of what now?” said Babe making sure he wasn’t hearing things he wasn’t supposed to. 

“Gene’s wedding,” said Spina. 

“You’re getting married? Shit that was fast,” said Babe. 

“He’s not getting married yet, Babe,” said Spina. “He wants us to be a part of it when it happens.”

“Gladly,” said Babe. Luz sat on the opposite side of them. He peered over another soldier’s shoulder who was reading a newspaper article intently. 

“Janovec, what are you reading?” said Luz. The soldier named Janovec glanced up briefly at Luz before turning back to his paper. 

“An article,” said Janovec. 

“No shit,” replied Luz. “What’s it about?” Janovec continued reading the paper. 

“It’s about why we’re fighting the war,” said Janovec not taking his eyes away from the paper. 

“Why are we fighting the war, Janovec?” said Luz pretending to sound like he was interested. He had to hold back a laugh as he squinted his eyes against the warm sun.

“It seems that the Germans are bad,” replied Janovec. “Very bad.”

“You don’t say?” said Luz, the smile latched onto his face like he already knew the reason why they were still stuck fighting the war. “The Germans are bad, huh?” Luz turned to Frank who was vigorously brushing his teeth and using the water from his canteen to rinse. “Hey, Frank, this guy’s reading an article over here that says the Germans are bad.” He made a pouty face and widened his eyes, nearly causing Frank to spit his toothpaste out all over Luz and burst out laughing. 

“So what about you, Web?” said Liebgott. 

“Learn something new everyday, huh?” said Luz beaming. 

“Guess I’ll finish school first and then--” started Webster. 

“Wait a minute,” said Liebgott astonished. “Finish school? You mean all this time you’ve been talking about Harvard this and Harvard that, and you ain’t even finished?” Webster closed the book he was reading.

“For one thing, I haven’t told you anything,” he replied a bit on the defensive side. “Yes, yes I haven’t finished. So the fuck what?” Even Liebgott was taken aback by Webster’s remarks.

“Alright Web, breathe a little. Jesus. Fuck,” said Liebgott. “It’s just the way you always talked, you know. We all figured that…” Liebgott stopped himself for he knew it wouldn’t make any difference. “Hey, you know what? You’re right. So the fuck what? So what did you study?”

“Hey man, I’m--” Webster took a second to recompose himself before finding the right words as to how he wanted to answer Liebgott’s question. “Literature.”

“Get outta here. You serious?” said Liebgott elatedly. “I love to read.” Webster raised one of his eyebrows in disbelief.

“You do?”

“Yeah!” exclaimed Liebgott. “Dick Tracy, Flash Gordon mostly.” Webster shot Liebgott a look, unimpressed by his comic books.

***

Easy had to find a place to spend the night before they got back on the road. They stopped at a German family’s home and began ushering them out of their living quarters. 

_ “Bitte, was machen sie den hier?” _ a German woman asked as she and the rest of her family were being kicked out of their home. She tried to protest with the shouting soldiers. 

“Tell her she’s got five minutes,” said Speirs to Liebgott. 

_ “Gehen aus! Gehen aus!”  _ cried Liebgott. The quarreling among the soldiers and the German family kept getting louder. Doc and Spina stayed on the trucks, to avoid the commotion. Spina fell asleep with the cigarette in his mouth.

“Jesus Christ if it’s that much of a hassle to look for a bed, I’ll sleep on the back of this goddamn truck,” said Doc.

“Hmm?” said Spina coming in and out of sleep. Doc took the cigarette from Spina’s mouth before either man could get burned. Doc took a puff of the cigarette before extinguishing it. “Who’s yelling?”

“Easy,” said Doc. “Trying to find a place to sleep. Sounds like they’re kicking a family out of their house.”

“Well that’s a load of bullshit,” yawned Spina. He adjusted himself against the side of the truck again and fell back to sleep. Doc rested against the other way, using his medic satchel as a pillow, one of his legs hanging off of the side of the bench, swinging back and forth so his foot wouldn’t fall asleep as he penned a letter to Rachel. 

_ April 19th, 1945 _

_ Dear Rachel, _

_ Though we just saw each other moments ago, I long to see you again when we get to Landsberg. I write this letter to you from the back of a truck in some little German village. We’re staying for one night, but it’s much more difficult to find a place to sleep. There’s a lot of commotion going on right now at a house we’re trying to stay at. I’m not going in. I’d rather sleep on the back of the truck rather than kick someone out of their home. It ain’t right. _

_ I wish you were here next to me, but knowing you’re close behind and that I’ll see you very soon gives my heart peace. Words simply cannot describe how happy I was to be with you again. I missed you terribly. Those last few months in Belgium were awful. I pray that you have a safe trip to Landsberg.  _

_ J’aime deux choses. Toi et une rose. La rose pour un jour, et toi pour toujours.  _

_ Love always, _

_ Gene xx _

Doc hopped off the back of the truck hoping he could find somewhere to deliver his letter. He wanted to get it done quickly and tune out the shouting that was still coming from the house.

“This guy says he ain’t a Nazi,” he heard Frank Perconte say from inside of the house. “Now, why is it in all of Germany I’ve never met a Nazi yet?”

“We’re only gonna be here one night! You got four minutes!” he heard Ronald Speirs yell at the family. 

_ “Wir sind keine Nazi!”  _ a woman protested. Doc prayed that the noise wasn’t going to go on all night. He found another soldier who could deliver his letter to Rachel as he hopped back onto the truck. He adjusted himself so he was comfortable against his satchel. He placed his helmet over his eyes and folded his hands across his chest, soon drifting off into a peaceful sleep, dreaming good dreams of Rachel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> German Translations:  
> Bitte, was machen sie den hier?: Please, what are you doing in here?  
> Gehen aus! Gehen aus!: Get out! Get out!  
> Wir sind keine Nazi!: We're not Nazis!
> 
> Poem Eugene writes at the end of his letter:  
> Jai'me deux choses, toi et une rose. La rose pour un jour, et toi pour toujours.: I like two things, you and a rose. The rose is for a day, and you are for forever.
> 
> Yes a new chapter update after a few days away! Thank you for the 96 hits and 2 Kudos from the people who are reading my story! It means a lot to me and it gives me the willpower to try and hopefully finish this story one day. Feedback is always welcome here.. :)


	18. The Road to Landsberg, Germany

Easy Company piled themselves into the trucks the next morning, everyone except for Doc who had spent the night sleeping on the back of the truck. He sat up, still half asleep and rolled his neck to each side, hearing it crack from the discomfort. The good thing about spending all night asleep on a truck, you’ve already gotten your seat and you don’t have to give it up for anybody. Doc stretched his arms above his head and rolled his shoulders as the other soldiers climbed up. 

The trucks rolled down the long country roads to the next village. Doc’s legs had fallen asleep but he couldn’t care less for he was going to see Rachel again and maybe do another fun thing with her whenever they would get there. They drove past a large group of German soldiers who had surrendered. They glanced at the trucks carrying the paratroopers with defeated expressions, some still with whatever pride and dignity they had left. 

“Look at them!” said Winters. “Even in defeat, they still know how to march with pride.” The German soldiers looked out in front of them, or down at their shoes, sometimes back up to the American soldiers. Webster stood up and held the metal side of the truck to keep his balance.

“Hey, you! Hey! You!” he yelled. Some of the Germans brought their heads up, looking at Webster warily. “That’s right! You stupid Kraut bastards! That’s right! Say hello to Ford! And General fucking Motors! You stupid fascist pigs!” The Germans lowered their heads as they tried to block out Webster’s painful ranting, some swallowing lumps that formed in their throats. “Look at you! You have horses! What were you thinking?”

“That’s enough, Webster,” said another soldier on the truck. “Give it a rest.”

“Dragging our asses halfway around the world,” said Webster, the bitterness still laced in his voice. “For what?! You ignorant, servile scum! What the fuck are we doing here?!”

***

**27 April 1945: Landsberg, Germany: 288 miles from Stürzelberg, Germany**

Easy spent the next few days stationed in Landsberg, enjoying a short amount of time to relax before some patrols were to be sent out. Doc cracked his knuckles and rolled his ankles to wake up his limbs a bit. 

“I swear we spend more time sitting in truck than we do out of ‘em!” said Spina. He rolled his shoulders forwards and backwards, hearing them pop and click as he grimaced upon hearing the noises. 

“Well I think we’re gonna be staying here for a while,” said Doc. “Now where’s my wonderful girlfriend? I got another fun date planned!” Doc sashayed away from Spina, sometimes side shuffling or moving backwards, Spina swore he almost saw Doc do a heel click, causing him to stifle his laughter. Babe stood next to Spina completely shaken up over Doc’s change in mood.

“The hell is wrong with Gene? Why’s he so damn happy all of a sudden?” he asked as he raised his eyebrows.

“Gene’s in love, Babe,” chuckled Spina as he attempted to make his eyes bigger. He clasped his hands together and blinked his eyes multiple times in a dreamy fashion like he was imitating Doc whenever he got all starry-eyed about Rachel, earning himself a laugh from Babe. Winters and the other officers stood in close proximity to each other. It was the first time the soldiers had ever seen them so relaxed as they were thinking about what their next step in the war was. 

“Wanna send out some patrols,” said Winters. He leaned against the back of a truck comfortably, letting the warm sun hit his face. “I want Dog here in the village, Easy and Fox in the woods.”

“Easy Company’s gonna take the northwest,” said Speirs. “Lt. Lipton?”

“Sir,” replied Lipton. 

“Have 1st and 2nd Platoon wing up to the woods,” said Speirs. “Have 3rd swing around.”

“Yes, sir,” said Lipton. He walked away soon meeting up with another soldier who was going his way. “1st Sergeant Talbert!” Winters stood with the other officers, looking a little less relaxed than the other officers. Something didn’t seem right, except he couldn’t put his finger on it. 

“You’re not worried about an ambush, are you?” said Nixon, almost like he could read his friend’s thoughts better than anyone else. Winters shook his head as he bit the inside of his cheek.

“No,” he replied. “Just in case we have to stay here for the night.”

***

A small patrol went inside of the woods later that same afternoon. It was quiet, almost unnaturally quiet except for the soldiers boots crunching over dirt, branches and grass and their breathing. The sun peered through the trees, the rays of light making the woods look like it was taken directly from the pages of a fairy tale book. The soldiers walked in a triangular formation, keeping themselves quiet as they scanned the area. O’Keefe, however was a little too anxious, jumping at anything that moved.

“O’Keefe?” said Bull who was standing directly behind him. 

“Sarge?!” said the private, once again nearly jumping out of his socks.

“Why the hell you so jumpy, boy?” said Bull, his cigar still miraculously being held in place with his teeth.

“I’m not jumpy,” said O’Keefe, in a poor attempt to calm his nerves. He turned forward again and lowered his shoulders, ignoring the fact he probably made a fool of himself again in front of his higher ups. “I’m fine.”

“Shit. I can hear your heart pounding in Arkansas, boy,” said Bull holding back a chuckle. 

“Jesus Christ, give the kid a break, Bull,” said Christenson. 

Luz and Perconte were upfront, acting like it was a normal stroll through the woods. Luz brought his cigarette up to his lips, uncertain of whether to enjoy the sound of silence or to be put on edge by it. He didn’t think too much of it as he took a long drag of his cigarette.

“Hey, George?” said Perconte finally breaking the silence. 

“Yeah?’ replied Luz. The two soldiers looked up at the canopy of leaves overhead. 

“Kinda remind you of Bastogne?” said Perconte with a slight grin.

“Yeah, now that you mention it,” replied Luz. “Except of course there’s no snow, we got warm grub in our bellies and the trees aren’t fucking exploding from Kraut artillery, but yeah, Frank, other than that it’s a lot like Bastogne.”

“Right.”

“Bull smack him for me, please?” said Luz as he was about to take another drag of his cigarette. Bull stood behind Perconte, smacking him upside the head gleefully as he held down his cigar, a pinging sound bounced off of Perconte’s helmet, causing him to shake his head from the impact of Bull’s hand. “Thank you.”

The soldiers continued walking through the forest, each man looking at their surroundings, growing more suspicious. Birds no longer chirped in the trees, something that usually signaled a hawk was in the nearby area, except there was no cawing from a hawk either. Silence. One of the most unsettling things a soldier could be surrounded by for they never knew what could be hiding behind those trees. Every man in the patrol was beginning to feel that something was off. 

“Sure is quiet,” whispered O’Keefe. He clutched the barrel of his weapon tightly. His other fingers curled around the trigger. The eerie silence made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. 

“He’s right, fellas,” said Perconte, equally disturbed by the silence.

***

Frank ran back towards the center of town looking frazzled, but at the same time disturbed about witnessing something whilst on the patrol in the woods. 

“You seen Foley?” he said to one of the soldiers he passed by. The soldier shook his head as he started running further into town. Doc, Rachel, Spina and Babe were sitting outside talking among themselves, laughing at a story Babe was telling. Their laughter was cut short when they saw Perconte run up to them.

“Hey, guys!” called Perconte. The four of them turned to see him heaving to catch his breath. “Anyone seen any officers?”

“Perconte,” said Doc. His eyebrows furrowed in concern seeing him trying to catch his breath. He looked very disoriented, almost panic stricken. He stood up, the look of concern still plastered to his face. “Perconte what’s wrong?”

“Have you guys seen any officers?” he said again, the panic laced in his voice. Babe, Spina and Rachel stood up slowly.

“No, no,” replied Babe. Popeye Wynn, a soldier who got hit in his behind in France at the start of the war, who was now walking like a normal human being again, passed by the group of four. Babe scanned the area quickly. “Speak to Popeye. Hey Popeye!” Popeye jogged over to the group after hearing his name being called. 

“Popeye, you seen any officers? Seen Foley?” said Perconte trying not to panic. 

Well, Speirs is searching them buildings right down the street,” said Popeye. He pointed towards a set of buildings. “What’s the matter?” Perconte pushed past him to another soldier.

“More, have you seen any of the officers?” 

“Yeah,” replied More. “Major Winters is right in there.” Frank rushed towards the building More pointed to, holding on to his helmet with his free hand. Doc, Rachel, Spina and Babe continued looking after him, wondering what exactly had gotten him so frightened.

“Should we follow him?” said Spina, the look of concern matched Doc’s. 

“We probably should,” said Doc. “Whatever it is, it might be serious.” Babe and Spina exchanged a look with each other, knowing Doc was probably right. They started running towards the building, Doc taking Rachel’s hand as all four of them ran together.

***

“Major Winters, sir…” said Frank as he tried to catch his breath, but still panicked. “We found something out on patrol and...We came across this--” Frank flourished his hands to try to get the words out of his mouth but found he was having an even greater difficulty in doing so. 

“What?” said Winters, the concern clear as day in his voice. “What? Frank? Frank, what is it?”

“I don’t know, sir. I don’t know,” said Frank, still trying to form coherent thoughts. 

“Dick?” said Nixon equally concerned. “What’s going on?” Winters didn’t answer for a moment. The look on Perconte’s face was enough to tell him that the situation was dire and needed to be taken care of immediately.

“We need to rally the others,” said Winters, after a short moment of silence. “Get Harry, Speirs and Lipton and tell them to get the others together. We need to check out some suspicious activity in the woods.” Nixon didn’t hesitate. He nodded his head and walked quickly out the door. 

“Sir, what can I do?” said Frank.

“Find any Easy soldiers,” said Winters. “Tell them to meet in the square. Get me a Jeep too.”

“Yes, sir,” said Frank. He ran out the door quickly, almost smacking into Doc and Rachel. “Sorry guys.”

“Perconte, what’s wrong?” said Doc. 

“Meet up in the center square with the rest of Easy,” said Perconte still trying not to panic. He ran past Doc and Rachel quickly, the two of them exchanged more concerned looks with each other. Doc, however was hesitant to leave Rachel. She held the sides of his face gently.

“Don’t worry about me, sweetheart,” said Rachel gently. “I’ll be fine. I’ll be waiting right here in the village for you when you come back.” Doc nodded his head, still hesitant to leave his girlfriend. Rachel reached up and kissed her boyfriend. “I love you. Now go on and help your friends.” Doc placed a quick peck on Rachel’s lips before placing his helmet on his head.

“I love you too, babydoll,” he said. He broke away into a run, his other hand holding the top of it as he wondered what it was that was waiting for him and the others this time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally got around to updating! Hope you all had a lovely holiday! 149 hits already?! Oh my gosh thank you to all the readers out there giving this story a chance! It makes me happy and continues to give me the motivation to keep writing! Thank you all so much!! You guys are awesome! Short chapter again, but it was necessary since the next chapter is going to probably be one of the most difficult parts of the story to write. I'm getting down to the wire with this story;it's probably going to end up being around 20+ chapters. Be on the lookout for a new update soon!


	19. 27 April 1945, The Forest Near Landsberg, Germany

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please listen to these songs in this order when you read the chapter (there is a reason behind the order)  
> 1\. Discovery of the Camp (from Band of Brothers): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pkhW2byKInU&index=75&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc
> 
> 2\. Berga (from Call of Duty: WWII): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vrlwaTX4ogw&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=76
> 
> 3\. Memories of Home (from The Pacific): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zAjLL92a-f4&index=77&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc
> 
> 4\. String Quartet in C-Sharp Minor Op. 131 (from Band of Brothers; during the cleanup of the German city): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fkXh-zdzuTI&index=78&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc
> 
> 5\. Band of Brothers Requiem (Voice): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ee-A_cxTzCA&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=79

The jeep drove through the woods at lighting speed, Frank Perconte sitting in the passenger seat with Winters and the other officers sitting in the back. They kept their eyes peeled for the location that Frank had described to them. He pointed to what looked like a large, fenced in area that was hiding behind the trees. Barbed wire lined the top preventing from anything getting in or out. The jeep driver nearly screeched on the brakes as Frank, Winters and the other soldiers crowded around the pen. A large lock was on the front gate.

“Open it up,” said Winters. Christenson came forward with a pair of wire cutters and broke the chain off of it. 

“Stand back, give us some room here. Stand back,” ordered Christenson. “Back. Back.” Easy stepped backwards as Winters and the other officers opened the large doors. They were greeted with a sad sight that was waiting for them inside; skeletal figures so thin their ribs could be seen through their thin striped uniforms with a yellow star sewn onto them. Their large, soccer ball like eyes stared at the newcomers, filled with fear as their expressions were gaunt. They weren’t skeletons; rather they were people who were very much alive, starved, tortured and isolated from humanity. 

Easy couldn’t find any words to describe the horrific scene. A horrible stench passed through each man’s nose nearly making them gag. Doc took out Rachel’s headscarf and covered his mouth and nose, several other men following suit as their eyes watered, a stench that reeked of burned flesh and rotting corpses. Doc motioned for the other medics to go in and check out one area to see if they could help anybody that they could as he went to another area. The prisoners lined the sides of the camp, staring at the soldiers and speaking in soft German tongues as Easy made their way in slowly. Several prisoners grabbed the soldiers’ arms, clinging on to the last bit of hope they had left.

“Christenson, any of your men speak German?” said Winters. 

“No, sir,” replied Christenson. 

“I need Liebgott. Liebgott!” said Winters urgently. “Lipton, find Liebgott.” Lipton pushed his way back through the crowd back towards the vehicles looking for Liebgott. 

“Liebgott! Liebgott!” called Lipton. Liebgott strided over to him quickly, his helmet tucked under his arm. “Liebgott. Major needs you up front, right now.”

“Sure,” said Liebgott without hesitation. Liebgott made his way over to Winters quickly, seeing how he could lend his assistance. 

“Alright, boys,” said Lipton. “These people need care. Give them water and any spare rations you might have. Grab me some blankets, quick.” 

“Oh my God,” said Nixon under his breath. He was almost in a trance, unable to take his eyes away from what seemed like an endless void. “Dick?” Winters stepped up next to his friend, seeing what he was seeing: several huts lined on both sides with more prisoners spilling out of them, a dead body lying in the pathway. A prisoner was carrying his friend in his arms and spoke to Shifty, almost pleading to him as he sunk to his knees and started crying. 

“I’m sorry,” said Shifty quietly. Grant slid his weapon off of his shoulder and reached around to his hip, unhooking his canteen from his belt.

“Here,” he said. “Take some water.”

“Jesus, Web, can you believe this place?” said Luz as he and Webster walked slowly, still trying to process how someone could be so cruel to people. 

“No,” said Webster under his breath. 

“My God,” said Luz in an almost whisper. A prisoner stumbled up to Janovec, kissing his cheeks and holding him tightly as he cried.

“It’s okay,” said Janovec, doing his best to comfort the prisoner. “It’s better now. It’s okay.” Liebgott, Winters, Nixon and the other officers were listening to one of the prisoners speaking, Liebgott acting as translator.

“He said the guards left this morning,” said Liebgott. The prisoner kept touching the back of his head every now and then as he sped up while he talked. “ _ Langsamer, bitte, langsamer.”  _ The prisoner continued rubbing his head, moving his hand back and forth as he tried to recollect as much information he could remember, relaying it to Liebgott and the officers. “They burned some of the huts first. With the prisoners still in them, sir. Alive.” They continued listening to the prisoner, while he was trying hard not to cry in front of them.

“Jesus Christ,” said Nixon under his breath. The prisoner continued to explain what happened, still continuing to rub his head.

“Some of the prisoners tried to stop them,” said Liebgott. “Some of them were killed. They didn’t have enough ammo for all the prisoners...They killed as many as they could...Before they left the camp. They locked the gates behind them and headed south.”

“Someone in town must’ve told them we were coming,” said Nixon. 

“Yeah, I think so,” said Liebgott. The prisoner sucked on his lower lip to prevent his tears from falling. Liebgott and the officers fell silent for a moment. Winters looked down at the ground processing the information that was given to them.

“Will you ask him...ask him what kind of camp this is?” said Winters steadily. “Um--what--uh--why are they here?” Speirs sucked on his bottom lip and fixed his eyes back up at the prisoner. It was probably the first time anyone in Easy saw him on the verge of tears. 

_ “Was ist das hier?”  _ said Liebgott. The prisoner kept touching his head and looked at the officers as he tried to form the words as calmly as he could. “He says it’s a work camp for... _ unerwuenschter _ . I’m not sure what the word means. Unwanted, disliked, maybe?”

“Criminals?” said Nixon. 

“I don’t think criminals, sir,” said Liebgott. “ _ Verbrecher?” _

_ “Verbrecher?” _ replied the prisoner. He shook his head slowly.  _ “Nein. Nein.” _

“No,” said Liebgott. “Doctors, musicians, tailors, clerks, farmers, intellectuals. I mean normal people.”

_ “Juden. Juden. Juden,” _ said the prisoner. Liebgott bit his lower lip when the prisoner said that. 

“They’re Jews,” said Liebgott under his breath, the bitterness hinting in his voice slightly. 

_ “Polen, Zigeuner _ ,” said the prisoner.

“Poles and Gypsies,” said Liebgott, still just as quiet as before. The prisoner continued speaking as he pointed towards the gates.  _ “Wie bitte? Was sagen sie?” _ The prisoner took in a sharp breath as his voice broke. 

“Liebgott?” said Winters with concern. The prisoner started crying, lamenting the loss of his friends, a lover, or his family. 

“The women’s camp is at the next railroad stop,” said Liebgott quietly.

***

Doc was assisting a couple of prisoners back towards the trucks. He had to hold both of them up at the same time, one of them nearly stumbled forward but Doc caught him, the other prisoner sobbing.

“It’s gonna be okay,” said Doc gently. He saw how thin and gaunt their eyes were. Their heads were probably covered in lice, muscle mass had been diminished significantly. They found a spot to sit down, Doc helping each one of them to sit carefully. Judging from the time frame Easy had arrived, the prisoners probably had been deprived of food and water for weeks. He didn’t have much on him but he rummaged through his pockets seeing if he had any spare rations. He unclipped his canteen from his belt. He gave the rations to the two prisoners as another soldier handed him blankets and helped wrapped them up.

“Slowly. Slowly,” said Doc calmly. “You wanna eat small bites.” He broke pieces of a granola bar in half and unscrewed his canteen lid, placing it into one of the prisoner’s hands gently. The two prisoners looked up at him, a small hint of gratitude shown through their tears. Doc took out his journal where he usually kept Rachel’s letters and rummaged through to find a clean sheet of paper, writing down his observations.

***

Babe and Malarkey walked to another part of the camp holding their cloths up to their noses and mouths to block out the stench. They stopped as they examined a cluster of dead prisoners.

“Hey, Babe, come here,” said Malarkey softly. He used his gun to indicate what it was he was looking at. Babe stepped up next to Malarkey to see what he was looking at. “Look at their arms.” On the inside of each prisoner’s forearm, a black number was tattooed on it. 

“Like cattle,” said Babe under his breath. 

“Goddamn,” said Malarkey in a whisper. The two soldiers brought the cloths up to their mouths again as they walked away. “Oh, Jesus.”

Luz and Bull entered inside of one the huts. It was pitch black, except for the light coming from outside. Both of them turned on their flashlights, the only sounds they could hear was the coughing and wheezing of the prisoners. They moved their lights over to each side of the hut; several prisoners were in cramped quarters, barely fitting on the bunks, most of them hanging over the sides like they were going to fall out at any second. Some of the prisoners shielded their eyes from the bright light for they feared they were never going to see the light of day ever again. 

Perconte walked by most of the prisoners like he was walking through a heavy fog. Neither him or the other soldiers in Easy could process exactly what they just saw well. One of the doors to the huts opened again as another prisoner emerged. He saluted Perconte weakly, Frank returning the gesture, the look of sadness still on his face as Doc was attending to some of the other prisoners. 

“I’m gonna call Sink,” said Winters. “Find Speirs and figure out how the hell to get them some food. And water.” 

***

The soldiers came running back into town filled with fire and fury. They rushed to grab whatever sustenance they could find for the prisoners, pillaging bakeries like they were Vikings. Everyone, except for Doc. He came back to the center of town still shaken up over seeing the horrific conditions the Jewish prisoners were suffering. His skin grew paler, bile formed in the pit of his stomach as he swallowed some that wanted to come up. His mouth became dry as he kept his head down and shoved his hands into his pocket. Rachel attempted to read a newspaper, except she was having difficulty reading it for she only understood a little German. She glanced up from the newspaper, seeing Doc. 

“Eugene!” she called brightly. Doc didn't hear his girlfriend for thoughts of the concentration camp still swirled in his mind. Rachel stood up with concern as she walked quickly to her boyfriend. Doc took notice of her, except he felt woozy. “Eugene?” Rachel quickened her step and held him up for support. “Gene, what's wrong?” She held his cheeks in her hands and checked his forehead. “You’re warm. Oh God and you’re paler than usual.” Rachel took a hold of one of his hands and supported his lower back. She led him to a small wall that was strong enough to hold the both of them. “Sit down, sweetheart.” She helped him sit down gently as she crossed her ankles.“Do you have water in your canteen?” Doc nodded his head slowly as she unclipped his canteen from his belt. She unscrewed the cap and placed the bottle into his hands. She helped him to hold it up. 

“Slowly, Gene. Small sips.” Doc lifted the canteen to his lips as Rachel touched the side of his face, her other hand resting in her lap. Doc brought his canteen down slowly as he twisted the cap back on, taking a deep breath. He placed his canteen next to him as he took a hold of Rachel's hand in her lap. 

“What happened?” said Rachel gently. 

“Something awful,” said Doc, the woozy feeling not as strong as it was before. He placed the canteen next to him as he held his head in his hands. Rachel rubbed her boyfriend’s back gently in soothing circles. 

“What did you see?” said Rachel. Doc took a deep breath as he raised his head up slowly. 

“We were notified of a large fenced in area deep in the woods over here,” he said finding his voice again. “When we got there---I was hit with this---this horrible stench. There were all these people----” Doc clasped his hands together and lowered his head again, taking a second to process the image in his head. Rachel continued to rub his back gently as he took another breath. “----they looked like skeletons.” Rachel raised her eyebrows in shock. Suddenly, shouting emerged from a bakery that was close to where Doc and Rachel were sitting. 

_ “Shut up!” _ they both heard Webster yell.  _ “Take everything, take it all. Shut up! Check the back and--shut up! I said shut up you Nazi fuck!” _

_ “Ich-ich bin kein Nazi. Ich bin kein Nazi!”  _ shouted the baker from inside of the building. Doc sighed and massaged his forehead. This was the second time he heard Webster yelling at their so called “enemy” and he wanted it to stop. All of it. Doc stood up from the wall a little too fast, the woozy feeling coming back again as Rachel grabbed him and sat him back down quickly as he hung his head feeling a throbbing pain on one of the sides. 

“Pay no attention to him, Gene. What kind of place did you say this was?” she said. Doc brought his head up to meet his beloved's concerned look as he inhaled again to keep the bile from coming up his throat.

“A work camp---for Jewish prisoners,” said Doc quietly. “Each one of them---pale, deeply sunken eyes---you could see their rib cages they were so skinny---” Rachel brought her hand up to her mouth letting the thought sit for a moment. Doc fell silent again as he held his hands together “According to Captain Nixon, there's more of these camps that have been discovered by other regiments----one that was 10x the size of this one---with ovens and gas chambers----”

“My God,” she said under her breath. Doc heaved a sigh as he rested his head against her shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her and held her hand in her lap. The shouting from inside continued. 

_ “Not a Nazi? My mistake, you fat, fucking prick!” _ yelled Webster. Doc and Rachel couldn’t see much of what was going on but could sese Webster holding the baker by the front of his shirt and apron with his pistol locked and loaded in his other hand.  _ “How about a human being? Are you one of those? Or are you gonna tell me that you never smelled the fucking stench?!” _

_ “Toeten sie mich nicht bitte. Bitte, toeten sie mich nicht! Ich verstehen nich-” _

_ “Let him go, Web,”  _ said another soldier who was carrying an armful of bread.  _ “He says he doesn’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” _ Webster released the baker angrily, still not believing that the baker didn’t know about the concentration camp.

_ “Bullshit,”  _ he said under his breath as he stormed out of the building right behind the other soldier. Doc let out another deep sigh, resting his head on Rachel’s shoulder as he tried pulling her closer to him. 

“I’m done seeing people getting destroyed and turning into something else, Rach,” he said softly. Rachel rubbed his other arm gently and kissed his cheek.

“I don’t blame you,” said Rachel sympathetically. “War is a terrible thing. Unfortunately, everyone on both sides has to suffer consequences. It brings out the worst in all of us.” She shifted her position and rested her head against his chest. Doc wrapped his arms around her and embraced her, stealing a soft kiss from her lips. Both of them looked out at the world in silence for a moment. He kissed the top of her head as he scooched closer to her.

“What are you gonna do after the war, babydoll?” said Doc finally breaking the silence.

“I dunno yet,” said Rachel. “I hadn't really thought about it. What I do know is I wanna spend a lot of time with you, the right way.”

“That is a given,” chuckled Doc. 

“What about you, Gene? What are you going to do after the war’s all said and done?” said Rachel.

“Not go into the medical field,” said Doc. “Maybe I could become a construction contractor. Do something with my hands y’know?”

“Well, there's an old saying I remember my dad would always tell me when I was growing up,” said Rachel. “If you put your mind to it, you can do anything you want, as long as you're happy.” Doc rubbed Rachel’s arm gently as he kissed the side of her head again. 

“Now I know where you get all your good advice from,” he chuckled. Rachel smiled a gentle smile as she snuggled against his chest.

“I have my moments,” she said. She sat up and took Doc’s hand in hers, squeezing it to give him reassurance. 

“It’s good advice!” said Doc, the faintest hint of a smile crossed over his lips as he kissed her. “It’s another reason why I love you so much.” Rachel giggled modestly as she tried to hide her blush, earning herself a chuckle and smile from Doc. “I’m serious, Rach.”

“I know you’re serious,” she chuckled as she kissed her boyfriend for a good amount of time. “I’m a lucky lady.” She stood up and dusted off the back of her dress and smoothed her apron as Doc followed suit. “Let’s not spend the rest of the day sad. Afterall, it’s not everyday you get to explore a European country.” She held her hand out to him, hoping he’d take it and smiled a coy smile. “Let’s go have some fun.” Doc’s lips twitched into a broader smile as he took a hold of Rachel’s hand. Her smile broadened as they started running and laughing.

***

**30 April 1945, Munich, Germany: 36.5 miles from Landsberg, Germany**

A string quartet played a lovely but solemn tune in the rubbled remains of a German village as Easy Company oversaw the cleanup. Some of the citizens wheeled a cart filled with bricks and other debris to try and clear the area as best as they could, others talking amongst themselves helping one another in the process.

“I’ll tell you one thing about the Krauts. They sure clean up good,” said Luz. 

“Yeah. All you need’s a little Mozart,” said Liebgott. 

“Beethoven,” said Nixon as he cleared his throat. Liebgott turned towards him to make sure there was no cotton in his ears.

“Sorry, sir?” said Liebgott.

“That’s not Mozart,” replied Nixon. “That’s Beethoven.” Liebgott nodded his head as he turned back towards the wreckage with the others in silence, just enjoying the music, putting their minds at peace for a bit. 

“Hitler’s dead,” said Nixon out of the blue, breaking the silence. The soldiers turned away from the wreckage in disbelief, but not very excited about the news.

“Holy shit,” said Liebgott in disbelief. 

“Shot himself in Berlin,” said Nixon. 

“Is the war over, sir?” said Bull, a hint of hope in his voice, perhaps the first time he sounded like that since the beginning of the war.

“No,” replied Nixon. “We have orders to Berchtesgaden. We’re gonna move out in one hour.”

“Why?” said Webster, slightly annoyed at the fact that they still weren’t leaving the war. “The man’s not home. Should’ve killed himself three years ago, saved us a lot of trouble.”

“Yeah, he should’ve,” said Nixon. “But he didn’t.” The cleanup continued as the string quartet finished playing their piece. The musicians placed their instruments back in their cases gently as Easy Company started filing out to hopefully the last stop in the war so they could go home and get their lives back, just like the Germans. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember at the end of the previous chapter how I stated in the notes this was the difficult chapter to write? Oh boy. It sure was. I had to re-watch when Easy finds the camp, God I almost started crying; I forget how powerful and sad that sequence is. I had to step away from writing this for a little bit since it was so emotionally heavy. But, I pushed through and finished another chapter because I told myself "This is history. We can't change what happened but we certainly can learn from it." Next chapter is gonna be more lighthearted stuff since we are moving towards the Eagle's Nest and good times in Austria, which also means we're getting close to the end of the war! Thank you guys for supporting this story. It means so much to me. Truly. :) You're all awesome!
> 
> Translations for Liebgott's exchange with the prisoner:  
> -Langasmer, bitte, langasmer.: Slow down.  
> -Was ist das hier?: What is all this?  
> -unerwuenschter: unwanted/undesirable  
> -Verbrecher?: Criminals?  
> -Verbrecher? Nein. Nein.: Criminals? No. No.  
> -Juden: Jews  
> -Polen: Poles  
> -Zigeuner: Gypsies  
> -Wie bitte? Was sagen sie?: Excuse me? What are you saying?
> 
> Translations from the German Baker:  
> -Ich-ich bin kein Nazi. Ich bin kein Nazi!: I'm-I'm not a Nazi. I'm not a Nazi!  
> -Toeten sie mich nicht bitte. Bitte, toeten sie mich nicht! Ich verstehen nich-: Do not kill me, please. Please, do not kill me! I do not understand-


	20. 30 April 1945, Berchtesgaden, Germany: 97 miles from Munich, Germany

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please listen to these songs while you read.
> 
> 1\. Among My Souvenirs-Vera Lynn: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V5zDOsI5Hgs&index=80&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc (The song officially ends at the 3:09 mark. I don't know why there's prolonged silence after that.)
> 
> 2\. That Lovely Weekend-Vera Lynn: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WUeBMKN0mGM&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=81

It was a peaceful afternoon. The sun was high in the sky, not a single cloud to be seen over the Austrian alps as a gentle breeze wafted across the atmosphere. Doc and Rachel sat on a long platform overlooking the river’s edge sitting close to one another, an arm wrapped around each other. It was a little place that many people probably didn’t know about which made it even better for the two to spend a quiet afternoon together. Doc’s fatigue jacket was draped over Rachel’s shoulders as the two soaked up the warm sun. Several birds chirped from the nearby trees, singing a sweet tune.

“Almost forgot what peace and quiet feels like,” said Doc, his gaze shifting upwards towards the blue sky. Rachel rested her head against his shoulder, the light cotton fabric of his white t-shirt was soft and comforting. She breathed in deeply, taking in the sweet scent of freshly bloomed flowers, a scent she thought she would never smell again. “It feels nice.”

“It does,” said Rachel, exhaling as she closed her eyes briefly and snuggled deeper against Doc’s chest. Doc kissed the top of Rachel’s head and wrapped both of his arms around her, pulling her into a warmer embrace. “I almost forgot this is what Europe truly looks like. Beautiful, like a picture you’d see on a postcard or in a book.” The lovers fell silent, the familiar sounds of the birds chirping and the water lapping gently, creating ripples across the surface, not being afraid of silence for once. 

“Back home in Louisiana,” said Doc, his voice still gentle and soothing as it was like the day they first met. “There’s this river called the Bayou Teche. Looks a lot like where we’re sitting now. It’s real pretty at night, especially with the lampposts turned on. Nice place for a romantic walk.” Doc adjusted himself so he was more comfortable leaning into Rachel. “I’ll take you one day. I think you’d enjoy it, Rachel.” She smiled a blissful smile as she kissed his cheek.

“Long as I’m with you, Gene, I’ll go wherever you go,” she said. “It sounds like a wonderful place.” Doc smiled at his beautiful girlfriend and kissed her tenderly. 

“Now that we have some more down time and a better place to think, there was something important I’ve been wanting to talk to you about, Rach,” said Doc. 

“Of course, honey,” said Rachel, earnestly. “What did you want to talk about?” Doc felt butterflies dance in his stomach. He swallowed a lump in his throat and felt his hands clam up. He thought about this for a while but still, it made him nervous to ask Rachel. Sooner or later, he was bound to have this discussion with her at some point. There was no point in trying to hide it now. Doc took a deep breath as he folded his hands over each other.

“What are your views and thoughts on--marriage?” he said, his voice a little shaky on the last word but he managed to get it out. Rachel’s eyes widened slightly at her boyfriend’s proposition. She took a second to get her thoughts together. Doc turned back towards the river as he took a deep breath. “I know. I know. We’ve been together for a year now, but it’s been on my mind for a while and I wanted to discuss it with you before I do anything irrational and stupid and--I don’t wanna pressure you or anything because I love you and respect you and--oh Jesus--God I’m getting tongue tied and ahead of myself. Damnit. My heart’s beating really fast!” He hid his blushing face behind his hands in hopes to hide his embarrassment. 

“Hey,” said Rachel sweetly. She took a hold of his wrists, gently moving his hands away from his face. He still wouldn’t look at Rachel, afraid he might embarrass himself further. She caressed the side of his face gently. “Gene. Look at me, sweetheart.” Doc turned his gaze back towards Rachel, her gentle touch was calm, he already felt more relaxed but still nerve-wracked. “Take deep breaths.” Doc closed his eyes and held Rachel’s hands as he inhaled and exhaled deeply, performing this action a few times until he was back in the right mindset again.

“I’m sorry, Rach,” said Doc, shamefully. “I know, sometimes I’m not very coherent with my words and thoughts. I don’t mean to babble and ramble. It’s just---I love and respect you so much.” He kissed Rachel’s hands gently and ran his thumbs over the outsides. They stood up together, Doc still holding her hands in his own. “I wanna make sure you’re happy with your decisions. I never want you to feel pressured about anything.” He kissed her hands again and stared deeply into her brown eyes. Her smile crossed over her pink lips, making him feel better she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her, their noses brushing against one another’s. 

“You’re cute when you care about things like that,” she said with a coy smile. “Well, for starters I think marriage should happen when both people feel they are ready. I know there’s some people who jump right in after meeting the day before, but I could never do that. I think we’re well established in our relationship right now with that factor.”

“Would you want a big wedding or small?” said Doc. He held Rachel around her waist, patiently listening to each of her responses.

“Something small,” said Rachel. “It doesn’t have to be extravagant. Simple and classy. Maybe somewhere indoors that has a nice venue. If there’s too much going on with decorations and the whole shebang, it’ll take away from what’s really important.”

“Yeah I think something simple and classy will be just right,” said Doc. “I wouldn’t want anything over the top either. But Rachel, I want to let you know that even though were shooting off ideas here, I will wait however long you want me to, until you feel ready to get married. I’m happy spending time with you like this right now, just enjoying your company on a beautiful sunny day.” Her lips curved into an endearing and sweet smile. She moved closer to his face and stole a gentle kiss from his lips.

“You’re so patient and considerate,” she said looking into his kind blue eyes, a dreamy smile spread across her lips. “That’s another thing I love about you.” Doc smiled a loving smile at her and looked at her dreamily, his arms wrapped comfortably around her waist. He rubbed his nose against hers like an eskimo would, earning himself a giggle from her. 

“Your giggle’s so cute!” cooed Doc, only making her giggle more. “Rach, you’re so adorable! That’s another reason why I love you.” Rachel’s giggling fit continued as Doc stole a long, passionate kiss from her. The two lovers were too caught up in their kiss, they didn’t hear what sounded like a camera click going off. 

“Aww! That’s cute! That one’s a keeper!” said Luz, a bit loudly. A broad smile crossed over his friendly face. 

“George!” said Doc, his voice cracking. He forgot he and Rachel were standing a little too close to the edge of the platform and felt their balance shift underneath them and felt gravity pull both of them backwards as they both screamed and fell backwards into the water, a loud splash echoed in the valley of they mountains. Babe and Spina ran over to see what the loud noise was. Doc and Rachel emerged above the water, Rachel laughing as Doc shook his head quickly and wiped his face of the water. 

“What the hell happened?” said Spina. Rachel and Luz started laughing, as Babe tried getting himself under control from his laughing fits. 

“George Luz, the cheeky bastard, scared the shit outta me and Rachel,” said Doc, bluntly, Rachel still laughing as her boyfriend tried to stay mad, but knew he couldn’t for very long, no matter how hard he resisted. “Now we’re soaked.” The three soldiers laughed as Doc and Rachel swam back to the shore. 

“Okay, okay,” said Babe getting himself under control slightly. “I’m sorry but the looks on each one of your faces was absolutely priceless!” Doc tried splashing water towards Babe, but wasn’t very successful in getting him. “Hey, watch it now!”

“Oh come on, honey,” chuckled Rachel. “Harmless mistake and all in good fun.” They helped each other out of the water and shook out whatever they could to get rid of the excess water. 

“Great. Now I got water in my socks!” grumbled Doc. He hopped on one foot over to Rachel. “Hey, babydoll? Can I use you for support for a hot second?”

“Of course!” chuckled Rachel. Doc placed his hand on his girlfriend’s shoulder to keep his balance as he took off one of his boots, a long stream of water poured out of it. He shook it to make sure no more water was there as he repeated the process for his other boot. He squeezed out the excess water in the hem of his shirt as the fabric stuck to his chest. He grabbed the hem of his shirt on both sides and pulled it off over his head to shake and squeeze out the rest. 

“Glad you fellas think this is so funny,” said Doc, the faintest hint of a smile crossed over his lips. Rachel laughed as she squeezed her hair out and the hem of her dress. She averted her eyes away from her boyfriend briefly and smiled towards the ground, a light blush dusting her doll-like cheeks as she bit her lip to hold back an innocent chuckle as Luz, Babe and Spina exchanged playful looks with one another, while trying to hide their giggles like schoolchildren. 

“Oh Eugene,” chuckled Rachel. She wrapped her arms around Doc’s neck and kissed him sweetly. “Honey, you’re so serious! Lighten up a bit! They’re just having some fun. We all could use it.” Doc licked his lower lip, still trying to hide that smile that was trying to peek out. A coy smirk crossed over Rachel’s lips. “Eugene. Are you ticklish?” Doc’s eyes widened as he shook his head vigorously.

“No---don’t you dare,” he said, the smile on his face growing bigger. Rachel’s smirk grew larger as she tried tickling his sides, several times. Doc sidestepped out of the way, a small chuckle emerged from his lips as he tried avoiding Rachel’s tickles, both of their laughter growing louder as it turned into a tickle fight. 

“Glad to see my best friend smiling again,” said Spina, a smile crossed over his round cheeks. “Hey, George? You think you can snap another picture of Gene and Rachel?”

“You wanna keep the picture of Gene’s smile next to your bed at night, Spina?” teased Babe. A hearty chuckle emerged from Luz’s lips. 

“No no,” said Spina. “Gene told me Rachel’s birthday’s coming up ain’t it? Dontcha think Gene deserves to give his girl a nice present?” Spina rested a hand on Luz’s shoulder and eyed the camera in his hands. “Maybe. Just maybe, we can help him out.” Luz and Babe looked at each other in approval, knowing where his plan was going. 

“Hey, that’s a great idea!” said Luz. “Jesus. I hope these pictures turned out okay. No. That’s a really nice idea, Ralph. I think Gene’ll appreciate that.”

“It’s the least we can do for him, since he’s done so much for us,” said Babe. “There a place to get the pictures framed around here?”

“Oh I’m sure of it,” said Luz. “There’s bound to be a place that does all that photo printing sorcery or whatever the hell you call it.” Luz adjusted the film in his camera so it was ready for another picture. “Hey lovebirds!” called Luz. Doc and Rachel turned up towards Luz who had his camera pointed at them. Doc pulled his damp t-shirt back on over his head. “Big smiles! Pretend that you like each other!” Doc and Rachel laughed as they wrapped their arms around each other. Rachel rested her head against his shoulder as Luz snapped a picture of them. “Beautiful! Beautiful!”

“I certainly hope those turn out good, George,” said Rachel. “I want a copy of them.” 

“I hope so too!” chuckled Luz. “I think they will though. I have faith in my photography skills! Alright we gotta get our medics together for a picture!” 

“I dunno, George,” said Doc. “I’m still kinda damp. I don’t look very photo-ready.” 

“Nonsense,” said Rachel smiling. She took his fatigue jacket off and draped it back around his shoulders and kissed him. “You look very handsome, Gene.” Doc smiled at Rachel as Luz snapped another picture of the two lovebirds gazing into each other’s eyes. 

“Aww that’s a sweet one,” said Spina smiling. 

“Alright Spina, stand next to Gene!” said Luz. Spina walked onto the wooden platform and stood next to his fellow medic. The two medics threw their arms around each other.

“Looking good, Spina!” called Babe, only making Doc and Spina laugh more. Luz continued to take several more pictures of himself and his friends having fun by the riverside. The small group forgot that the war was still going on, even though by now it was dwindling further with each passing day. They walked back towards the main assembly area where the other soldiers were. They would be shipping out to the place that would soon be sought after by several other divisions in the United States Army and was said to be the home of loot a man could only think of in his wildest dreams but could not be more appropriate for the Screaming Eagles to take first; Hitler’s private mountain hideaway, the Eagle’s Nest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Yes I finally got back to writing this story! It's honestly one of my favorite stories I've written so far and I really don't want it to end! But we're getting so close to the wire! Over 200 hits already??!! Wow! I wasn't expecting this fic to get so much attention! Oh my goodness my heart is soaring! Thank you guys for sticking with this story! It means so much to me! <3 <3 Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Filled with lots of fluff and cute stuff since the last chapter was a bit emotionally heavy. As always, feedback is welcome!


	21. 08 May 1945,  Berchtesgaden, Germany: 97 miles from Munich, Germany

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please listen to these songs as you read:
> 
> 1\. The Last Battle-John Williams (from Saving Private Ryan): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FX71tKWyK8g&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=83
> 
> 2\. Austria-Michael Kamen (from Band of Brothers): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=scJgWlrt-V8&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=84
> 
> 3\. Main Theme-David McGarry (from Brothers in Arms: Earned in Blood video game):https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hqJPvC-GoQ4&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=85

Easy Company moved up through the picturesque mountaintops and peaceful greenery, like it was taken straight from the pages of a book full of fairy tales. A second half of the group went up another route to clear away some rocks that had fallen on the path, allowing for easier access as the other soldiers ran back to catch up with the jeeps. Hoots and hollers of joy filled the air as some of the soldiers took their helmets off of their heads and waved them like banners seeing something resting with pride on top of the mountains; the abandoned Eagle’s Nest. It was once a birthday present for der Fürher himself, built from Nazi party money. A stone retreat, eight thousand feet up, only accessible by gold-plated elevator. It was one of the crown jewels of his empire, and the man was afraid of heights; now it was Easy’s for the taking.

“There she is,” said Spina, smiling broadly. “Beauty ain’t it?”

“You’re telling me,” said Doc, slightly unimpressed with how it looked on the outside. To him, it looked more like a ski lodge that was lodged into the mountain, hoping that no one would find it or a secret bunker. The view he was much more fascinated with was the view of the mountains themselves. Everything was so crisp and clear with the sharpest greens he had ever seen line up on the Alps. It reminded him of Mount Driskill, except with less trees on either side, giving a narrower view of the peak. It was the first time Doc had felt closer to home in a foreign country ever since he enlisted. He sat in one of the long lounge chairs and took his helmet off of his head, basking in the warm sunlight. He interlaced his fingers behind his head and closed his eyes, a content smile formed over his pink lips as he stretched slightly. 

It was another time Doc truly felt at peace. The only thing missing from his peace and quiet was Rachel. She stayed in the village of Zell Am See, trying to help some of the other soldiers to go home as quickly as possible. He promised her he was going to make her 21st birthday something special since they didn’t have much time to celebrate before leaving. He still had the present he wanted to give her. Thanks to Spina and Luz’s help, he was able to get the pictures developed. She said she didn’t want anything crazy, but Doc swore he was going to make it up to Rachel and make her 21st something she would never forget. 

“Hey, sleeping beauty!” called Spina. “You think this is cool? Come check out what they got inside!” Doc got up from his chair and followed his fellow medic down the stairs. 

***

The two men were greeted with a spectacular sight once they entered. It was like discovering buried treasure, but better. There was an abundance of silver objects in the elegant room with the large windows overlooking the mountaintops; a dining room, much larger than the one Doc had in his childhood home to fit five children and his mother and father. He walked into the room slowly, like he was in some sort of dream that he didn’t want to wake up from. His hands ran over the fine woodworking as his eyes fixed on the silver that decorated the room. He picked up a set of sterling silver platters and silverware, inspecting them carefully. 

“This would make for a nice wedding gift,” he said. 

“You planning on giving that to Rachel for when you two tie the knot?” teased Spina. Doc smiled to himself but kept his back to his friend. He blew onto the plate, clouding it with his breath before wiping his sleeve in a circle, clearing the metal so it would shine better. 

“You got a bag or something I can put this in for safe keeping, Spina?” said Doc. “Like a sack or something?” Spina opened a closet door, quickly looking through it and found a large sack that looked like it was used to carry packages and letters. He took the sack out and gave it to his friend. Doc placed the silver into the bag, soon handing it off to Spina to see if there was anything he wanted to take home as a souvenir. 

*** 

Speirs, Malarkey, Grant and More opened up a set of large set of wooden doors, More holding his weapon up in front of them, in case if there were any Krauts still hiding. The small group of men walked forward, inspecting every inch to make sure there weren’t any surprise traps. Speirs looked on the ground to see a German soldier who had shot himself. He picked up the pistol off of the ground and was about to place it in his pocket, until he heard a loud shot go off, making the captain jump. Malarkey walked forward with a fresh bottle of German champagne and looked down briefly at the soldier then up at Speirs. 

“Here’s to him,” he said before taking a long swig of the alcohol. More stood over in another part of the room, examining a photo album. Hundreds and hundreds of pictures of Hitler and the Nazis were pressed into them neatly. The officers heard voices and laughter coming from outside on the terrace. 

“No, goddammit, listen,” came Nixon’s voice. Winters and Lipton walked up the stairs to the terrace hearing the chatter coming from outside. Winters turned to Lipton and smiled, a soft chuckle escaped his lips as the two officers walked outside.

“Hey, Adolf!” said Welsh brightly, a little too brightly. He clapped his hands and pointed at Winters. He stood up, though was much shorter than Winters. “Love your Eagle’s Nest. I hope you don’t mind, we--we made ourselves at home. I love what you’ve done with the place.” Welsh pat Winters on his chest and leaned down towards the table. “Hey. Have a drink. Come on. Just so we can say we saw you do it.” He handed Winters a bottle of champagne. A small smile formed over Winters’ thin lips as he snapped a piece of paper out in a single flourish.

“Listen up,” he said, the smile still on his face. “From Court, just came in effective immediately. All troops stand fast on present positions.” Welsh looked to the side quickly then back up at Winters like he was still listening, earning himself a chuckle from the other officers. 

“Exactly,” said Nixon. He was sitting on a lounge chair, Welsh trying not to burst out laughing, except he couldn’t hold it much longer and snickered under his breath as he kept trying to stand up straight.

“You wanna hear it?” said Winters smiling a broader smile, attempting to hold back his own laughter. 

“Mmm,” said Welsh, keeping his sturdy stance. More snickers escaped from his lips as he shook with laughter. Winters clapped a friendly hand against his shoulder. 

“Ready for it? Listen up,” said Winters, the smile still clear on his face. “German army surrendered.” Speirs didn’t move his gaze from the major, Nixon brought his hands from behind his head and looked to his friend astonished. The officers were silent. Welsh’s smile fell from his face, trying to process the words that flowed out of Winters’ mouth. Winters kept smiling as he pat Welsh’s confused face. He turned to Nixon. “I got a present for you. Come on.” 

“Is it? Yeah?” said Welsh still in disbelief. Lipton laughed, happy and full as he nodded his head and embraced his fellow officer, knowing they had survived the war. Nixon removed himself from his comfy chair and followed Winters. 

***

The two officers drove down to what looked like a large abandoned house. Winters pulled up to the front, stopping smoothly. 

“What is this place?” called Nixon. He peered up at the large house through a dark pair of aviators. It was larger than his own perhaps, a brilliant shade of white, some of the structure crumbling on the right side with two soldiers from Easy Company standing guard in front of it. 

“Hermann Goering’s house,” said Winters. The officers walked briskly to the front entrance of the house. “We discovered it yesterday. Had it on double guard ever since.”

“I can vouch for that, sir,” said O’Keefe. The young private looked up at Winters, almost as if to ask him if he could take a break from standing guard all day. The major stepped towards the boy. 

“Oh, anxious to get off duty O’Keefe?” said Winters, jokingly. The young private played with the strap of his gun, tentative for he didn’t want to get chewed out by another Toccoa paratrooper; he already received enough of that from Perconte. 

“No, there’s just so much to see and do, sir!” said O’Keefe innocently. Winters held his hand out in front of him. O’Keefe placed a small key in the palm of his hand like it was some sacred relic he was tasked with protecting. 

The large cellar doors opened to pitch black, the echoes of footsteps scraping against the stone steps as Winters cautiously ran his hand along the side of the wall. His long fingers curled underneath a switch, flicking it on, light illuminating the narrow area. Winters continued to walk down the stairs and came to a gated area. He stuck the key in the keyhole, turning it until he heard a click, He pushed the large metal doors open, making the small space much larger than it appeared to be. 

The major stepped off to the side as Nixon removed his sunglasses. He froze in his tracks to a sight most spectacular; 10,000 bottles of the world’s finest liquor, wine and champagne that had been untouched and neatly stacked away. Nixon felt like a child on Christmas morning. He didn’t know where to start.

“It’s all yours,” said Winters, breaking Nixon from his trance. “Take what you want and have each company take a truckload. We’re heading for Austria in the morning, but don’t feel you have to leave anything here for whoever comes next.”

“Austria, sir,” said O’Keefe, still mesmerized by how massive the interior was. 

“Happy VE Day,” said Winters smiling. Nixon still felt like he was in a dream. 

“Yeah,” he replied. Winters let out a low chuckle and left the building for Nixon to enjoy on his own. O’Keefe turned towards the captain, still looking like he had stepped through to wonderland.

“VE day?” the young private asked. 

“Victory,” said Nixon. He handed a bottle to O’Keefe. “In Europe.” Nixon walked past the surprised soldier and inspected the contents, carefully choosing which drink he wanted to sample first. “Happy VE Day.” From that day forward, Easy Company was no longer an aggressive combat unit. Instead, they were an occupation force. No one wanted to leave Berchtesgaden. That was until they arrived in Austria.

***

The jeeps rolled down the peaceful country lane. It was about late afternoon to early evening, the clouds in the sky a pale pink, to a light golden. Doc took in the fresh mountain air and let it fill his lungs. He breathed deeply and smiled. His present for Rachel was wrapped neatly into a pretty little package. He kept it in his medic satchel for safe keeping. He couldn’t wait to see the look on her face when she opened it, her beautiful smile so sweet and innocent. He could already see it. Doc smiled to himself as he held his satchel close to him. 

“You’ve got that dreamy look about you again, Gene,” said Babe smiling a giddy smile. “I swear, the longer we spend in Europe, you’re swooning more and more everyday!”

“I can’t help it, Edward,” said Doc. “I’m looking forward to tonight.” 

“Hot date with Rachel tonight?” smirked Luz through his cigarette. Doc rubbed the back of his neck with one hand and let out a low chuckle. 

“We’re celebrating her birthday,” said Doc. 

“Hey, wait a second,” said Babe. “Wasn’t her birthday almost a week ago?” Spina elbowed Babe in the side. “Hey! Watch it, Spina!” Spina shot his friend a look and shook his head, signaling for the young soldier to knock it off. 

“To answer your question, Heffron, yes it was,” said Doc. “We’re celebrating so late because I’m making up for her actual birthday. She didn’t get the chance to celebrate how she wanted to.” 

“What’s your master plan for the lovely lady?” said Luz. 

“My plan is simple. Dinner reservations and we’re gonna go dancing.” 

“Does Rachel know about this plan?” said Luz. Doc smiled and shook his head. Luz’s eyes widened to the size of baseballs, his mouth gaping open which quickly morphed into a quirky smile. “Keeping it a surprise huh?” Doc smiled towards the ground and blushed. 

“Yes, sir,” he said, the shy smile still touched his lips, perhaps the most Easy Company had seen their medic smile in a long time. “I’ve got everything all planned out. I want it to stay that way too. So mum’s the word.”

“My lips are sealed,” said Luz pretending to zip his lips, locking it and throwing away the imaginary key. Doc tried to hold back his laughter, but a snort broke through the barrier of his hands, earning himself laughter from Babe and Spina. 

***

**08 May 1945, Zell am See, Austria: 48.1 miles from Berchtesgaden**

Zell am See was as happy as it looked. Several people emerged from their homes, tending to their gardens, waving to the soldiers as they drove through the peaceful countryside, others hugged or kissed each other on their cheeks, celebrating the war’s end in Europe. Rachel was speaking to some of the townsfolk, some shaking hands with her as the trucks rolled into the village, the trucks and figures she became all too familiar with that filled her heart with joy. She smiled as she ran into the town square frivolously, her curls bouncing about her face as she saw her boyfriend standing with his fellow troopers.

“Eugene!” she called. Doc turned his head upon hearing his name being called. He smiled as he saw Rachel waving to him, that gorgeous smile that seemed to never leave her face and filled his heart with joy. 

“Pardon me, fellas,” said Doc. He placed his helmet with his other belongings as he ran to his girlfriend, the other soldiers giving playful smirks at one another. The two lovers met in the middle as Doc picked his girlfriend up into a loving embrace and spun her. 

“Is it true? Is the war truly over?” said Rachel. She looked into her love’s eyes and rested her hands on his shoulders. Her big, brown eyes filled with earnestness and hope like an innocent schoolgirl. Doc held the sides of his beloved’s cheeks and smiled a toothy grin before kissing her forehead and resting his against her own. 

“Yes, babydoll,” he said, unable to contain his excitement. “In Europe at least. Three years of fighting are finally over!” Rachel’s smile seemed to broaden more as she looked into her boyfriend’s handsome blue eyes, the slightest glimmer of hope returned to them, knowing he was going to see his family again and spend time the right way with Rachel. She giggled as he kissed her long and good, his long fingers tangled through her pretty curls, his other arm wrapping around her waist attempting to bring his lover closer to him as he deepened his kisses. 

They broke their kiss hesitantly, smiling at each other as Doc picked his girl up again and spun her in another circle, capturing her in a loving and protective embrace knowing that he was going to live to see another day. 

“I love you so much, Rachel,” he said, burying his head into her shoulder. He closed his eyes and smiled as he kept holding her tightly. 

“I love you so much,” said Rachel. Doc kissed her again before setting her back down on the ground. He never let go of her waist as he kissed the tip of her nose and gazed into her lovely eyes. 

“So, you got any plans or somethin’ tonight?” said Doc, attempting to make himself look flirty. Rachel’s jaw gaped open as she went with it.

“Why Eugene Roe are you asking me out on a date?” she said, a playful smirk crossed over her lips which turned more into a smile. 

“Well sorta kinda,” said Doc smiling. “I’ve got something special planned to make up for your birthday.” Rachel’s eyes doubled in size as she smiled broadly. 

“Oh?” she said. “And what would that be?” Doc shuffled his foot and chuckled. 

“Well, I couldn’t tell you,” he said. “Don’t wanna ruin any surprises or nothing.” Rachel gave her boyfriend a playful look, praying she would pry something out of him as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. Doc smiled a childlike grin. “But, I can assure you, Rach, this surprise is gonna be worth it!” He crossed his heart. “ _ Je promis.” _ Rachel smiled broadly and stepped closer to her boyfriend.

“Well, alright,” she said wrapping herself around him. His cheek rested against her forehead, the gentle smile still present on his lips. “I’ll be patient. Just for you, Gene.” Doc pulled his lips back into a toothy grin. He stole a long kiss from her soft and pretty lips, picking her up off the ground slightly and not wanting to break this spell of joy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Long time no see! Yes I am back! School has been hectic lately; I'm still all over the place with my schedule but I finally managed to finish this chapter! Thank you to the kind souls who left Kudos on this work! It really does mean so much to me! I thought people had stopped reading this but it warms my heart to know that there are people who want to continue reading this! Thank you! <3
> 
> Holy cow! 282 hits too?!! I truly wasn't expecting this story to get so popular! Oh my gosh thank you to my lovely readers for sticking with this! Hopefully, after Cloud 9 is finished, I'll get back to writing more! 
> 
> As always please feel free to leave a comment/feedback/Kudos if you want to! Hope you all enjoyed this chapter! :D


	22. 08 May 1945, Zell am See, Austria: 48.1 miles from Berchtesgaden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please listen to these songs while you read (but not until Gene's date and afterwards)  
> 1\. A Kiss to Build a Dream On- Vera Lynn https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=30WujukeVrg&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=86
> 
> 2.Little Brown Jug- Glenn Miller & His Orchestra https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tSyA0c_Rs8U&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=87
> 
> 3\. The Story Of A Starry Night- Glenn Miller & His Orchestra https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R_orcZ3lTqg&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=88
> 
> 4\. Moonlight in Vermont- Margaret Whiting & the Billy Butterfield Orchestra https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=essWDndhb48&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=89

The mountain air was still except for the sound of birds chirping and the wind blowing over the peaks. Liebgott, Skinny and Webster sat in a jeep on the opposite side, patiently watching a brown farm house that overlooked the Austrian alps. Sheep grazed at a patch of grass that was nearby as the three Easy men sat there for what felt like hours, waiting for someone to come out of the house, staring intently afraid if either one blinked they would miss whoever it was they were waiting for.

“I fucking hate this,” muttered Webster. 

“Jesus Christ,” breathed Liebgott, equally as annoyed as his comrade. “He’s in the fucking room, Web. One of those Polaks who was at the slave camps this is where the guy lives right here.”

“Which camp?” replied Webster, the agitation and impatience laced in his voice like a fine thread.

“Whatever camp,” scoffed Liebgott. Webster and Skinny continued to look at the house in silence. “Under direct orders and I’m happy to follow it.” Liebgott shifted his position in his seat, the fiery look still in his eyes as he hoisted himself up, soon followed by Skinny. Webster closed his eyes and sighed. The two men made their way up to the house as Webster watched with dissatisfaction. He was hesitant to leave his seat as he shut his eyes again before grabbing his weapon and hopping out the back of the jeep to join Liebgott and Skinny. 

“Is this a personal thing, Joe?” asked Webster.

“What?” said Liebgott abruptly. The three soldiers continued their trek up the hill.

“Is this personal to you?” said Webster, a bit more earnest.

“No it’s a goddamn order,” said Liebgott with a bit too much bravado, but not as much when he first enlisted. His step quickened, Webster trying to match his pace.

“Does Major Winters know about this?” said Webster cautiously. Liebgott sighed, pushing Webster’s thought out of his head and kept walking.

“Doesn’t matter here.” 

“Oh the fuck it doesn’t!” replied Webster in a reprimanding tone. “What if this guy’s just a soldier?” Liebgott turned his head away from Webster and rolled his eyes, pretending he didn’t hear his warning. “What if he’s an officer with no ties to the SS? What if he’s innocent?”

“You know what? What if he’s a fucking Nazi kommandant of a fucking slave camp?” snapped Liebgott.

“Which one?! Which camp?! You don’t have any proof!” yelled Webster. 

“Were you at Landsberg?” said Liebgott, the anger dying down in his voice a bit and turned to agitation. Webster paused for a moment.

“You know I was,” replied Webster in a softer tone than before.

“You think he’s a soldier like you and me?” said Liebgott. “A fucking innocent German officer?” Webster turned away from Liebgott and sighed. He stuck his tongue into his cheek and looked back towards the brown house and fell silent. “Where the hell have you been for the past three years?”

Liebgott pushed the wooden door open forcefully, startling an older man wearing a grey sweater and brown pants. A white bowl clattered to the wooden floorboards as Liebgott raised his pistol at the man and backed him into a corner. The man was confused as to why three strangers with guns walked into his home, speaking in German trying to shoo the soldiers away so he could enjoy his lunch. 

“What?” said Liebgott. Sisk and Webster followed shortly behind, checking the corners to make sure no one else was home and that no one would run. The man kept trying to get rid of the American paratroopers, praying he wouldn’t get shot. “Shut up.” Liebgott and Webster moved closer to the terrified man.

_ “Sie sind und kommandant?”  _ Liebgott asked the shaking man. The man turned to the soldiers who were surrounding him, his hands shook, trying to find a way out of the uncomfortable situation.”

“ _ Gehen aus,”  _ the man said in a panicked fashion.

“ _ Sie sind und kommandant?”  _ said Liebgott again without hesitation, still staying unnaturally calm. 

_ “Mir und Kommandant?” _ asked the man. Liebgott felt his patience running thin, the growing tension in the room getting too much for Webster as Liebgott grabbed the man by the front of his shirt collar forcefully as he pushed the man into the chair. 

“Don’t you fucking lie to me,” said Liebgott, his voice shouting now. Webster turned his head towards the scene that was unfolding. He stood halfway between the door and the kitchen wondering if he should stay or not. The two men were now yelling at maximum volume, Liebgott’s patience completely burned like a fuse, the German man trying to reason with him. “You did that to my fucking people!” The German smacked the table with his hand, still trying to get through to the angry soldier. Liebgott didn’t buy a single word of it. He grabbed the man by his shirt front again and cocked his gun, pointing the barrel straight at the man’s neck as he thrashed in Liebgott’s grasp. Webster turned once more and left the building. 

Webster closed the large wooden door behind him, still hearing the screaming match going on from the other side of the wall. He took out his pack of cigarettes, fumbling to get it out of his pocket as he stepped away from the door. He placed the unlit stick into his mouth and grabbed his Zippo lighter to calm his nerves. Skinny Sisk joined him outside shortly afterwards as he closed the door behind him, scratching the back of his head and turned to Webster, still uncertain as to how people could still have some fight left in them even though the war in Europe was over. 

“He’s guilty,” said Skinny softly. Webster didn’t reply. He took another drag of his cigarette, his mouth forming an O shape as a puff of smoke escaped his lips. “Liebgott says so.”

“He probably is,” said Webster. He looked out to the Austrian landscape, trying to ignore the shouting that was coming from inside. A loud gunshot made him and Skinny flinch. The door of the house slammed open as the man ran out, the left side of his neck bleeding as he stumbled to run away. Liebgott stormed out, his pistol still raised as he tried to shoot the man again, but was unsuccessful. 

“Damnit son of a bitch,” said Liebgott through gritted teeth. He turned to Webster as he reloaded his bullets. “Shoot him.” Webster watched as the man kept running. 

“Shoot him!” screamed Liebgott. His voice echoed in the canyon as Webster didn’t move a muscle.

“No,” said Webster. The man didn’t get very far until another shot was fired, hitting the man in the back as he fell like a tree. Webster turned to Skinny who lowered his gun, the smoke still coming off of the barrel in wisps. Skinny looked at the dead man remorsefully as he slung his weapon over his shoulder. Liebgott put his pistol away angrily, storming back to the jeep.

“He’s a coward,” he said still through gritted teeth as he pushed his hair out of his face, nearly spitting the words out. 

“The war’s over,” said Webster. “Anyone would run.”

***

The evening was calm and pleasant in comparison to the events that had happened earlier today. Doc and Rachel sat inside of a fancy restaurant, the soft candlelight from each table bouncing off the golden walls in the dimly lit room, creating a romantic atmosphere the two of them needed. The white tablecloths were neatly pressed and fresh with no food or wine stains lingering on them. Both were dressed in their best outfits, a luxury that almost seemed impossible before. 

“Gene, this has been such a lovely evening.” said Rachel impressed. The soft candlelight made the edges of her hair glow a soft golden like the sunset. Doc smiled a modest smile in an attempt to hide his blush. She wore a dark red dress that accentuated her figure nicely, her lips a bright ruby red to match, and her hair tucked up in soft curls; she almost looked similar to Olivia de Havilland in  _ Gone with the Wind _ . It was a treat for Rachel too. It was the first time she was able to wear makeup again and wanted to look extra nice for her boyfriend tonight. The two laughed and held hands in between their meal. 

“Does it make up for us not celebrating your birthday the right way?” said Doc, the gentle smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Rachel smiled towards the ground briefly before meeting her boyfriend’s gaze.

“By a long shot,” she chuckled. “All of this--this--it’s wonderful. Almost forgot what it was like to have a decent meal again. How on earth did you manage to find this place?” Doc chuckled as he held one of Rachel’s hands and rubbed his thumb over the outside of it in gentle circles. 

“Well, I had a little help,” he beamed. Rachel rested her other hand against her cheek, glancing and smiling at her boyfriend. Doc gazed at her, enamored by how beautiful she looked without the grime of war on her skin; clean, happy and finally enjoying herself and his company for more than a few minutes and completely ignoring his plate of chicken which he barely made a dent in. 

_ How’d I get so lucky? _ He thought to himself.  _ Goddamnit Rachel you’re so beautiful! Red’s a good color on you. No! More than beautiful. Damn my girlfriend’s sexy! I still have to pinch myself to make sure I ain’t dreaming.  _ He rested his head against his knuckles. He liked it whenever Rachel would pull her lips back into a toothy grin every time she would talk about her passions. He loved it whenever she’d laugh or get embarrassed for her cheeks would turn pink, sometimes flushing up to her ears, something that was happening now. She turned away briefly to take a sip of her water, catching her boyfriend’s dreamy gaze. 

“What?” she said, the slightest hint of a giggle escaped her lips, making the pink blush form more on her pale cheeks. Doc smiled as he sat up in his chair and put an arm around Rachel. 

“Nothing,” he said, rubbing her arm gently. “Just thinking of how lucky I am to have you in my life, Rachel.” She smiled as Doc moved closer to her face and kissed her gently, savoring her lips like they were a fine wine. The tips of their noses brushed against each other’s gently, both hesitant to break away from another. Doc broke his gaze from Rachel and placed a finger up to signal for her to wait as he checked each side of his chair to see what he was looking for, hoping no one took the thing that was under his seat. 

“I gotcha a little something,” he said. 

“More surprises? My goodness!” chuckled Rachel. She tucked her hands underneath her chin as Doc reached under his chair. He sighed in relief as his fingers curled around a rectangular object. He pulled up a small package that was wrapped in brown paper and tied up with string. He moved his chair closer to her and placed the package into her lap.

“What’s this?” said Rachel. Doc kissed Rachel’s cheek and smiled. 

“Open it.”

Rachel looked down at the package in her lap and carefully undid the string that was tied around it. She pulled the brown paper away from her present in a meticulous fashion, the crinkling of the recycled paper getting lost amongst the chatter of the other customers and the clinking of wine glasses being picked up by the serving staff. Her lips formed a large O shape as she placed her hand over her mouth and heart as Doc heard a soft “aww” escape her lips. 

“Oh Gene,” she gushed. She chuckled as she pulled the brown paper away to reveal a sleek, black picture frame. Inside of the frame was a picture of her and Doc before they got pushed into the lake behind them. Rachel lifted her head up from the picture back up to her boyfriend. “Where did you get this?!”

“Remember that day when Luz was taking pictures of all of us down by the lake?” said Doc smiling. “Y’know after we were soaking wet?” 

“How could I not?” chuckled Rachel. Doc draped an arm over Rachel’s chair and held the other side of the picture frame and smiled down at it with her. 

“Spina, Heffron and Luz helped me get this whole thing set up,” said Doc. “I told ‘em that I could handle everything, but they insisted on helping.” Rachel handed the picture frame to him. He got that look about him again whenever he was deep in thought; his eyes almost looked like they were closed, his lips pulling back into a sweet and pensive smile. “I’m real glad they did.” 

Rachel smiled back down at the picture, feeling tears cornering her eyes. She sniffed as the tears fell onto the picture frame as a look of concern crossed over her boyfriend’s face. 

“Aww Rach,” said Doc gently. “If you don’t like it, I can bring it back. I thought, y’know it’d be a nice present. I didn’t think it’d make you sad--”

“No, no,” sniffed Rachel. She took the napkin off of the table and dabbed the corners of her eyes with it. She looked back up towards her lover. “I’m not upset at all, Gene.” A smile formed over her ruby red lips as more tears streamed down her face as she looked up to her boyfriend. “I’m touched. It’s a beautiful present. And it came from your heart. Goodness look at me crying. I’ll ruin my makeup!” Doc chuckled as he pushed some of her tears away with his thumbs, his hands rested against her cheeks. 

“Happy birthday, babydoll,” he replied with a smile. Rachel chuckled as she moved her face closer to her boyfriend’s and kissed him tenderly. 

“I love you,” said Rachel. The tears had ceased. “I love you, so much.” 

“I love you too,  _ ma chère _ ,” said Doc, the smile still over his lips as he kissed her forehead, then her nose, before meeting with her mouth again. He wrapped his arm around her in a warm and loving embrace. It was little moments that made Doc wish he was going home soon so he could share more of those kinds of moments with Rachel. 

They didn’t go to a ritzy dance hall like Doc had planned for they were both stuffed to the bone from their dinner and retreated to the living room at Battalion HQ. Headquarters was unnaturally quiet, except for the sounds of crickets chirping and the lake lapping over the rocks outside and the creak of the wooden floorboards whenever Doc or Rachel walked across them. The other soldiers had gone out for the evening and wouldn’t be back till much later, allowing Doc and Rachel to have the whole place to themselves. Two table lamps were on, giving some comfort into the dark room as Doc opened a window to let in the warm summer breeze. Rachel closed her eyes for a moment on the couch, letting the food settle in her stomach, finally allowing herself to relax. 

Doc thumbed through the set of records some of the soldiers left on the table with the record player. He took a record out of the sleeve and placed it on the turntable and fixed the needle in the small groove as the record began to spin, the lively sounds of Glenn Miller & His Orchestra’s  _ Little Brown Jug _ filled the room as Doc adjusted the volume. Rachel opened her eyes upon hearing the music and turned to her boyfriend who was smiling at her. She smiled back at him as she sat up on the couch. Doc shuffled over to her, his class A jacket hanging over one of the arm chairs as he extended his hand out to her. 

“May I have this dance, m’lady Rachel?” he said, the gentle smile still on his lips. Rachel smiled at her boyfriend and took his hand as he pulled her up from the couch. They started dancing in time to the music, Doc spinning her and watching her dress fan out in circles. They laughed as they tried to keep up with each other, dancing the night away, one style changing from quick and lively to romantic waltzes as the tracks changed. 

Doc placed another record on the turntable, the lovely voice of Margaret Whiting crooning  _ Moonlight in Vermont _ with the soft backing of the Billy Butterfield Orchestra. Rachel rested her head against her boyfriend’s chest, him sometimes kissing the top of her head and resting his on top of hers as they danced slowly, wrapped in each other’s embrace. They didn’t say much, only enjoying each other’s company, letting the music wash away their worries. They stopped dancing for a moment to look in each other’s eyes, sometimes stealing long, passionate kisses in the soft lighting. It was the first time both of them truly felt at peace. Old thoughts resurfaced in Doc’s mind about having a future with Rachel. A future that was promising and hopeful. A future he wanted now rather than later, hoping he and Rachel would be able to go home and truly start their life together. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Long time no see! Yes! It is a new chapter update you aren't dreaming! School has been a slog, there are two weeks left of classes and I'm still swamped, but I'm close to the finish line! Wanted to give a huge thank you to Zeeter, Eino-e, junojelli, la_petite_cerise, Mgdln and the two guests who have left Kudos on this work. I am forever grateful and it means so much to me! <3 Wanted to thank Zeeter and Eino-e for leaving comments on the first chapter (I'm touched! :D You guys rock!) I can't believe this story is already at 387 hits! Seriously though, I had no idea that this story was going to reach that many people! :') Thank you guys for all of your support! Band of Brothers means so much to me and I am glad I get to share that love with all of you. As always, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! 
> 
> German translations:  
> Sie sind und kommandant?- Are you a commander?  
> Gehen aus-Get out.  
> Mir und Kommandant?- Me a commander?


	23. July 1945: Zell am See, Austria: 5,162 miles from The United States

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you read, listen to these songs:
> 
> 1\. Arnhem- Michael Giacchino (From Medal of Honor: Frontline)-https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D2B-zWwTcgs&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=91&t=0s
> 
> 2\. Approaching the Tarmac-Michael Giacchino (From Medal of Honor: Frontline)-https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UcyRx-4tQ1s&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=91 (Think this could easily count as Speirs' theme.)

The German army had surrendered, except the war still wasn’t called off, but somehow men were still dying. Young men who wanted to be home with their families by now which served with distinction since before Normandy were stuck here because they didn’t have enough points. What they did have plenty of were weapons, alcohol and too much time on their hands. Rumors had been circling that Easy would be shipped to the Pacific to help finish the war, a thought that several of the men dreaded. Winters was parked on the side of the dark road, heading back to HQ. Another Jeep rumbled past him on the opposite side of the road carrying Sgt. Grant and two other soldiers. He waved to his men before driving away. 

“--comes outta nowhere,” said Grant over the loud roar of the engine. “Shoves the trench knife up against his throat and screams ‘whose side are you on?’” Grant chuckled to himself and turned back towards the road. The other two soldiers that were with him exchanged confused looks. 

“I don’t get it,” said the soldier in the back seat.

“It’s D-Day,” replied Grant, proudly. “2nd Platoon’s Ol’ Bill Guarnere.” The two soldiers laughed softly. “Ole Gonorrhea himself. Just landed in Normandy and wound up like I dunno what.” The three soldiers chuckled, reminiscing about their old friend who was probably living the dream life back home in the states. “Whose side are you on. What a fucking character.”

“What happened to him?” said the soldier in the passenger seat. The jeep slowed and came to a rolling stop, seeing another jeep that was parked and facing the opposite direction.

“Got his leg blown off in Bastogne,” replied Grant. He stopped the jeep seeing another soldier looking back over to them and another soldier dressed in a grey uniform, lying face up. “Wait here.” Grant slid out of the jeep and approached the soldier who was standing with caution. He looked closer at the ground seeing the man on the ground had been shot in the head. The soldier stumbled towards Grant, shielding his eyes from the brilliant white headlamps of the vehicle. His tie was uneven, his hair unkempt and sweat glistened off of his cheekbones and held a black pistol in his hand. 

“You okay, Mac? You need some help?” said Grant. He wrinkled his nose, catching a strong whiff of alcohol like he was about to drown in it. The soldier laughed drunkenly.

“They wouldn’t give me any gas,” he chuckled. He looked at the Germans below his feet, a much too pleasant smile crossed his thin lips. “Krauts.” The soldier turned away from Grant, staggering back to his jeep as Grant kept a safe distance as he followed behind him. “I tried to explain. This fucking lime he wouldn’t listen! They think he was a major.” 

“Look, private we got a problem here,” said Grant calmly. He took a few steps forward. He needed to get that weapon out of the soldier’s hands before anyone else would get a bullet through their heads. 

“Do you have any gas?” the soldier asked, too eagerly. 

“Why don’t you give me your weapon,” said Grant. The soldier glanced at the second soldier he shot, stumbling back towards the Jeep.

“But, I guess I’ll just use his Jeeva. I don’t think he’s gonna be needing it,” said the drunken soldier. He wobbled over to the driver’s side of the jeep.

“Hold on a second alright?!” called Grant. His step quickened as the soldier retaliated, firing his gun and hitting the sergeant square in the center of his head, much to the horror of the two soldiers sitting in the jeep. They scrambled out of the vehicle quickly. The drunken soldier sped away from the scene of the attack.

“Sarge! Sergeant Grant!” the soldiers called. 

***

Doc sat on the steps of Headquarters. He held a cigarette in between his fingers but he couldn’t get himself to smoke it. He couldn’t risk telling his mother and father that he may get shipped over to the Pacific. Worse, he couldn’t tell Rachel. Doc’s stomach tightened into a hard knot just thinking about that thought. The two of them found each other again after a stroke of luck and fate. He didn’t want that to be taken away from him. Not again. He could already see the images in his head play out in front of him. He could see those big brown eyes, already heavy with combat fatigue and the ghosts of men she couldn’t save, looking at him with worry and hurt, her hands hiding her face full of tears as he looked guiltily towards the ground, fearing his girlfriend would hate his guts, him pulling her against him as she wept, the knot in his stomach constricting more as he tried not to think about it. 

Doc looked at the burning cigarette, furrowing his eyebrows together in disgust. He extinguished it angrily and chucked it into a set of bushes. He rested his hand against his forehead, sometimes pushing his raven locks upwards, cursing under his breath. The door to Headquarters creaked open. Rachel emerged from the entrance quietly. She closed the wooden door behind her as she pulled a small black cardigan around her shoulders. She had changed back into her grey nurse’s uniform, but rolled up her sleeves and carried a blanket tucked under her arm. 

“Eugene?” she said softly. Doc didn’t hear her. Rachel walked away from the door, taking the blanket out from underneath her arm. She sat next to her boyfriend as she unfolded the blanket, draping it around his shoulders and kissed his cheek. “Hey.” Doc stopped cursing under his breath and looked to where his girlfriend’s voice came from. 

“Oh, sorry Rachel,” he said softly. “I didn’t hear you come out here.” He turned back towards the ground, folding his hands together. Rachel’s brows softened with worry. 

“You okay, babe?” said Rachel. She pulled her cardigan sleeves over her hands and tucked them underneath her arms. “You looked distraught.” Doc took a deep breath and looked back over to Rachel, resting his head against her shoulder for comfort and pulled the blanket around her. 

“I dunno, Rach,” he said on a sigh. She adjusted herself so she was comfortable against him. Doc held her hands with his free one, running his thumb over them. “There’s been lots of talk goin’ round recently.”

“About what?” said Rachel. Doc closed his eyes and looked away from Rachel, feeling his heart sink lower into his stomach. “Gene, about what?” Doc swallowed a lump that formed in his throat twice. Before Doc could answer his girlfriend’s question, the two soldiers that were with Sgt. Grant ran up to the front steps, the panic clear as day in both of their eyes. 

“Doc!” one of them cried. “Doc! Doc! We need your help!” 

“I’ll tell you later, babydoll,” said Doc. “What--”

“It’s Sgt. Grant. He’s been shot.” Doc and Rachel exchanged quick glances with each other as they both stood up from the steps, rushing with the other two soldiers to the jeep.

***

Doc and Rachel made it to the scene of the attack in the nick of time. They were able to bring Grant back to the hospital. The surgeon flicked on the lamp to get a better look at Grant’s head wound. The aid station was quiet, only one other nurse was left in the building, her heel clicks echoing off of the large walls. Rachel stood next to Doc and held his arm as she looked down at Grant. 

“Jesus,” the surgeon said under his breath. Speirs held Grant’s hand as if to reassure the unconscious boy he was going to make it. He pat it a couple of times to let the unconscious man know he wasn’t alone. 

“What?” said Speirs, in a barely audible whisper. The doctor turned his head quickly to the captain.

“He’s not gonna make it,” said the surgeon, taking a puff of his cigarette. In the faint shadows, Doc and Rachel’s jaws dropped, hearing that quick absurdity. 

“You can’t operate on him?” said Doc softly. 

“Not me,” replied the surgeon. “You need a brain surgeon. And even if you had one, I don’t think there’s any hope.” 

“So what?” said Rachel, unconvinced. “You’re just gonna let this poor man die without even trying to help him?”

“Miss, I understand your concern but there isn’t any chance for him,” said the doctor. 

“You don’t know that,” said Rachel. “You oughta be ashamed of yourself. How dare you call yourself a doctor when you won’t even try to help him.” The doctor rubbed his eye with the palm of his hand, his fingers still holding the cigarette. 

“I rest my case. He can’t be saved,” he said. The doctor walked away. Doc was about to say something to the man but he was out of earshot, leaving the medic and the nurse frustrated and looking for options. Even Speirs wasn’t willing to give up that easily. He turned to Floyd Talbert standing in the back.

“You find the shooter, I want him alive. Come on, help me.” said Speirs, hurriedly. Doc and Rachel fixed their positions as Doc raised the bottle of plasma above his head as Talbert took the other end of the stretcher.

“What are you doing?” the doctor asked as he lit his cigarette.

“We’re gonna go find a brain surgeon!” yelled Speirs. The four of them rushed out of the building back to the jeep. 

***

“Hey, Lieb,” said Talbert as he came down the stairs. “He wants a noncom guarding each roadblock at least two men watching every road out of town. Bull, Malark, you each take a squad and one of these witnesses on a house-to house search.”

“We shoot this bastard on sight?” asked Malarkey as he held his fatigue jacket in his hands. Talbert and the large group of soldiers walked up the stairs quickly, not wasting any time to see if anyone was staggering behind, some of them putting on bits of their clothing.

“Try and take him alive,” said Talbert, the authority quickly changing to solemness. 

“Where’s Grant now?” asked Bull.

“They took him to a Kraut hospital to see if they could drum up any good doctors,” replied Talbert. 

***

Speirs drove the jeep as quickly as he could. Doc and Rachel sat in the back, each one of them taking turns holding the plasma bottle if the other’s arm got tired. Rachel pressed her fingers to Grant’s neck, checking for a pulse.

“How’s it looking, Rach?” asked Doc. He sucked his lower lip, praying Rachel was going to give him some good news. 

“His pulse is very weak,” said Rachel softly. She looked up at her boyfriend. In the dark, her eyes were laced with fear, but she kept herself calm, that same sense of urgency and determination he saw in her when they first met in Bastogne. She couldn’t risk losing another man. She looked down at the unconscious soldier, biting her lower lip, hoping they would find someone who could help them, and soon.

“Hey,” said Doc gently as he held one of her hands. He kissed it gently and ran his thumb on the outside. “He’s gonna pull through, Rachel.”

“I hope so, Gene,” she said her voice barely audible. Doc switched the plasma bottle to his other hand and wrapped his arm around Rachel, followed by a kiss to her temple in hopes to help comfort her. The jeep stopped. Doc continued to hold the plasma bottle up over Grant’s heart as the two of them watched Speirs approach a fancy front door. The captain knocked on the glass window pane. No response. He tried again, this time being greeted with the front light turning on. A man on the other side of the window pushed the cream curtain away to see who could be bothering him so late at night, only to be greeted by an American paratrooper with a gun pointed at the door.

“Open up,” Speirs said, with calm authority. The man in the candy cane striped pajamas opened the door cautiously, only to have Speirs kick it open. He raised his hands and shook as he kept eyeballing the gun. “Come with me.”

“Why?” said the man.

“Get in the jeep,” said Speirs, cutting straight to the point. The man grabbed his coat from the coat rack and put it on over his pjs. 

“Where are we going?” said the man. 

“To the hospital. Get in.” Speirs kept his weapon aimed at the man’s back. He stopped halfway in between the jeep and the man with the gun. Doc and Rachel both looking at the man, waiting for him to make his decision. He turned towards Speirs..

“If you’re going to shoot me, shoot me,” said the man. There wasn’t any fear behind his words. He stood bravely in front of the captain, willing to accept his fate like the others before him. “If you’re not, put the gun away!”

“Get in the jeep now,” said Speirs, agitated. The man turned back towards Doc and Rachel. 

“What happened to him?” 

“He was shot in the head,” said Doc. The man checked underneath Grant’s dressings, inspecting it to see how long ago he had been shot.

“Half hour ago,” replied Speirs. The man didn't’ flinch. Speirs nudged the man with his gun. “Come on.”

“If you want him to live, you’ll help me,” the man said, clearly annoyed from Speirs’ constant pushiness. “First by putting that away.” Speirs stuck his tongue inside of his cheek as he put his weapon back into his holster. He moved back towards thee driver’s seat. “Let’s go.”

“Let me drive,” said the man. “We’ll get there faster.” 

***

A pained grunt escaped a man’s lips from the other side of the wall back at Battalion HQ. Luz and Talbert sat in the foyer, playing cards, hearing the slaps and grunts, mixed in with the shouts of their fellow soldiers. 

“Let’s see what we got here,” said Luz, holding a cigarette in between his teeth. He picked up his hand, shuffling through to see what suits he had. The slapping and grunting got louder. “Jesus Christ. Hit ‘em in the head.” He lit his cigarette and slapped his lighter on top of the cards. He turned his head to the glass window. “Who’s taking a bigger beating me or him?” He chuckled as the smoke escaped from his nose.

“Wanna play a different game?” said Talbert, shuffling the deck of cards. 

“No. Same game. Shuffle ‘em up good, huh?” said Luz. Talbert shuffled the cards, but lost his focus when another loud grunt and smack bounced off the walls. He threw the cards down, frustrated that he had to reshuffle. Talbert slapped the cards down, biting the inside of his cheek and sucking on his lower lip. 

“You alright?” said Luz, raising an eyebrow. 

Yeah I’m alright,” said Talbert, shortly. He continued slapping the cards down hurriedly like he was about to punch someone or break someone’s neck. 

“You wanna go in there and join in?” said Luz. Talbert dealt the cards out and sighed. 

“I should go in there and stop this,” said Talbert. Luz looked down at Talbert’s shaky hands, the cigarette still dangling from the corner of his mouth.

“Boy,” said Luz, calmly. “Let’s just play cards, alright?” Talbert looked back down at the cards, trying to tune out the horrible noises that circled behind him. He nodded his head, knowing it would be better if he stayed out here rather than take his anger out on a drunken soldier. 

A pair of boots marched through the grand halls of headquarters, echoing like a giant stepping into a canyon. A dark shadow creeped on the sleek marble white floors as the figure pushed the doors open, breaking Luz and Talbert’s attention away from their game and stood up quickly to see a very angry Captain Speirs.

“Where is he?” demanded Speirs.

“How’s Grant?” said Talbert.

“Where is he?” said Speirs again, more impatient. 

“Is he okay?” said Luz.

“Where is he?!” yelled Speirs. Talbert didn’t say anything. He glanced towards the room where the other soldiers were in. Speirs marched to the door, slamming it open. The soldiers stopped beating up the man who shot Grant and stared at their captain. The right side of the bastard’s face was drenched in crimson blood. Perconte held him up by his hair, releasing him quickly as the soldier choked on his own blood. The air was rigid, like walking on a sheet of thin ice or broken glass. 

“This him?” said Speirs, straight to the point. The soldier kept hacking up his blood as the Easy Company soldiers cleared a path.

“That’s him,” said Bull. Speirs walked up to the drunk soldier slowly. “Replacement. I Company.” The soldier took shaky breaths. His chin doused with red like he had a can of paint spilled all over him.

“Where’s the weapon?” said Speirs. The replacement grit his bloody teeth on his slick lip, breathing heavily in a poor attempt to hide his fear. 

“What weapon?” Speirs had enough of people not giving him direct answers. He raised his weapon, pistol whipping the drunken soldier clean across the face. The bloody soldier spat red liquid out of his mouth like a boxer who had been punched in the face.

“When you talk to an officer, you say sir.” Speirs said, unemotional. The other soldiers looked at each other silently or at their feet. The sound of a gun being ready to fire cut through the thick air as Speirs pointed his weapon at the man’s head. Perconte and several other soldiers backed up; the only sounds that could be heard were the pathetic grunts of the soldier and the rattling of the gun’s barrel. Speirs’ hand shook, his finger rested on the trigger. Malarkey closed his eyes, not wanting to watch anymore people be killed in front of him. 

Speirs pulled his gun away from the drunkard, a small patch of blood covered the side of his hand. He looked at it with unflinching disgust and wiped it on the soldier’s shirt, close to his neck. Speirs slid his hat off of his head, walking away from the battered soldier. “Have the MPs take care of this piece of shit.”

“Grant’s dead?” asked Talbert.

“No,” called Speirs. He stopped halfway at the door. “Kraut surgeon says he’s gonna make it.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thanks for the 433 hits! Sorry that Doc wasn't in this chapter as much as I wanted to have written, but following the script/clips of the show, he had a job to do, but we shall see more of him in Chapter 24! Thank you guys for sticking with this story! I do hope all of you are enjoying it as much as me! What is it that Doc wanted to say to his girlfriend? You will find out in the next chapter!


	24. July 1945: Zell am See, Austria: 5,162 miles from The United States

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *The saucy and sexy chapter!*
> 
> Please listen to these songs while you read the chapter  
> 1\. After the Drop- Michael Giacchino (From Medal of Honor: Frontline) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=54sSF5JS_HA&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=93&t=0s
> 
> 2\. We've Gone Respectable-Hans Zimmer, Geoff Zanelli & Blake Neely (From The Pacific) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KZcnOOEwyuQ&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=18

The night air was still and calm once again. Water lapped over the rocks on the quiet shores, the only other sounds that could be heard was the crickets in the tall grass outside of the bedroom window. Rachel hung her apron up on a spare hanger in the small closet, her boyfriend sitting on the edge of the bed, his countenance downwards as the soft lamplight on the wooden bedside table made his raven hair look like a soft brown. She smoothed the back of her dress and sat down next to him.

“Thank God Grant’s going to be alright,” said Rachel. “Did the catch the guy who shot him?”

“They did,” said Doc. He didn’t lift his head from the ground. The knot in his stomach tightened like someone had beaten him senseless from his gut. He remembered on the boat to England how Skip Muck thought that the Pacific would be everyman’s dream. He could still see that bright expression and could still hear those exact words in the crowded boat quarters. 

_“Right now, some lucky bastard’s headed for the South Pacific. He’s gonna get billeted on some tropical island, sit under a palm tree with six naked native girls, helping him cut up coconuts so he can hand-feed them to the flamingos.”_ He was wrong. No tropical island paradise. It was a mirror of the Western Front. Doc could still hear the war footage playing in the back of his mind. Flamethrowers. Japanese soldiers charging at American soldiers with swords, coming straight towards them like a kamikaze pilot crashing into the side of a boat. He could already hear someone crying for him again, more gashes and wounds to tend and more soldiers barely younger than him crying out for their goddamn mothers. Doc still couldn’t get himself to look at his girlfriend. A gentle hand wrapped itself around his arm, pulling him out of his thoughts, and the sounds of Rachel’s sweet voice, reminding him that he wasn’t alone. “Gene?”

Doc shook his head and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. 

“Sorry, Rachel,” he said, his voice croaking. He cleared his throat and let out a deep breath before hanging his head.

“Hey,” said Rachel. She scooched closer to her boyfriend. She rested her head against his shoulder and rubbed his free arm. “Gene, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” said Doc quietly.

“Doesn’t sound like nothing,” said Rachel. “Come on. What’s eating you?” Doc continued looking at the bedroom floor, wishing that horrible knot would go away in his stomach. Rachel kissed his cheek and held his hand in hers. “Wasn’t there something you want to tell me earlier?” Doc brought his head up slowly, the lamplight illuminating half of his face, casting deep shadows under his neck, a shadow dancing across his nose. 

“There’s--there’s been a lotta rumors goin’ around,” he said, clearing his throat. “Rumors---’bout possibly getting shipped to the Pacific.” Rachel felt her chest grow heavy, like she had been run through with a hot iron. How cruel fate was being towards them once again. After months of hiding during Hitler’s counterattack, scared for her boyfriend’s safety on the front lines and not sleeping until she knew he was safe, the war kept trying to rip them apart. She felt tears stinging the corners of her eyes but quickly blinked them away.

“We just found each other again, though,” said Rachel softly. Doc took a shaky breath as he held Rachel close to him.

“I’m sorry, babydoll,” he croaked. “I didn’t wanna tell you.” He took a hold of Rachel’s hands, looking into those brown eyes he dearly loved. Those beautiful brown eyes. So kind and lovely like a pair of chocolates. He wanted to keep this image of her in his head forever, dark, wavy hair that looked like a lighter brown under certain lights, a sweet and innocent face with rosy red cheeks whenever she blushed, dainty pink lips like a doll’s that curled into the most beautiful smile he had ever known.

Rachel couldn’t look at the man she loved. Tears shot down her face as she bit her lower lip trying to sustain them. She buried her head into his chest, feeling Doc’s warm embrace encircling her. He smelled like coffee and bald cypress trees. It was a pleasant scent, making her feel safe and knowing that Doc was still here with her and that she wasn’t dreaming. 

“It’s not fair,” she sniffed. She lifted her head off of his chest. Her bottom lip quivered as the tears spilled out of the corners of her eyes. “The war’s over in Europe, but it’s still finding ways to keep us apart!” She lowered her head and sobbed. “It’s not fair. God. We should be home by now! We should’ve been home a long time ago!” She nearly fell forward from crying so hard. Doc caught her in a swift motion, holding her against his chest once again. He kissed the top of her head, holding her tightly as she began to calm herself down. “All I want---all I want is a future with you, Gene. I love you.”

“I love you too, Rachel,” said Doc. He kissed her forehead tenderly as his fingers ran through those gorgeous curls absentmindedly. “I want a future with you too, Rach.” He could feel his girlfriend's tears staining his shirt. “Hey now.”

Rachel lifted her head off of her boyfriend's chest, her eyes wet and red from crying. Doc brushed her hair away from her face. He held her cheeks, admiring her natural beauty in the soft lamplight. He kissed her flushed cheeks, making the last few remnants of her tears disappear.

“I ain’t leaving anytime soon, _chère_ ,” he said softly. “It's just a rumor. Hell, I might not have to go.”

“I know. I know,” sniffed Rachel. “It's the thought of you, if you do go over there--- if you get hurt---lying there on some Godforsaken island in the Pacific----never coming back--- Oh God---Gene, please don't go over there! Please don't! I don't know what I'd do with myself if you got hurt again!”

She buried her face into her hands and massaged her temples. Her stomach began to twist into knots, her chest feeling like lead and the room spinning around her. She stood up and went to the window as the tears rolled down her face. She massaged her forehead, the other hand resting against the frame of the window. Doc went behind her, hugging her tightly and kissing the side of her head.

“Why do I think these terrible thoughts, Gene?” said Rachel, her voice soft, almost like a whimper. “I don’t want to think these horrible thoughts!” She turned to face her beloved. “I wish I could think positively again. I’ve had enough of the war filling my mind with dread.”

“We can think positive again, babydoll,” said Doc gently. “For starters, the war brought us together. If we didn’t enlist, we never would’ve met, Rach.” He kissed Rachel’s hands like she was royalty. He kept his gaze on Rachel. The whole world didn’t matter to either of them in that moment. They felt like they were the last two people on earth, the only boundary between was the small gap between them and how they wanted to close it. Their love was limitless in that small bedroom in the Austrian countryside. Doc took a hold of Rachel’s hands. He could feel his heartbeat through his shirt the longer he looked at Rachel. An itch formed over his skin, but he couldn’t quite make it go away. He had been feeling that way for a while ever since he and Rachel were getting more alone time they deserved. He felt it in Bastogne when they made out in the back room of the aid station but had to restrain himself for Rachel and didn’t want to push her boundaries. He wondered if Rachel had felt that same itch during that period of separation. 

“Well, you’re certainly right about that,” said Rachel, that smile Doc had been missing for so long had finally made an appearance again. He felt himself step closer to his girlfriend, his fingertips brushing the small of her back gently.

“Rachel, you’re the reason I am able to be here,” he said. “It’s still possible for us to have a future together. You and me. Livin’ someplace quiet in Louisiana by the bayou, waking up next to each other every single day. Safe from Europe. Safe with each other--” He felt his gaze shift from her eyes to her slightly parted lips. He loved how they framed her smile. His gaze shifted to her figure in her dress. He didn’t remember when his cheeks turned red but he could feel them burning. “--that--that dress looks real good on you, Rachel.” 

Rachel’s cheeks dusted a light pink as she looked away from her boyfriend, smiling and biting her lower lip. She felt goosebumps cover her skin when he said that, making her heart flutter more. He placed a hand against her hips and turned her to face him. 

“Yeah? You think so?” she said. The light was soft around the edges of her hair, like an angel’s halo. That gentle smile she had come to know and love so well touched his lips.

“Yeah. I do.” He moved his face closer to hers slowly, kissing her with an underlying passion that had been trapped inside of him for so long. This wasn’t like the kiss they shared in the back of the aid station in the cold hell of Bastogne. There was more fire and love behind it, a kiss neither one of them wanted to break free of for it made the both of them feel alive again. She gave into his passionate kiss, her long fingers gripping the back of his shirt desperately as her nails dug into his skin by accident. Doc tensed up as she did that, only causing him to pull her against him harder. They pulled away for a moment to breathe; there was just enough space in between the two of them to keep their lips hovering above each other’s in a teasing fashion.

“You’ve never kissed me like that before,” said Rachel, in between breaths. The atmosphere around them was warm like the rising sun thanks to the sultriness of the kiss they shared. 

“First for everything as they say,” said Doc in between breaths. He held the sides of Rachel’s face and kissed her with full passion again, relishing the taste of her lips against his own like they were a fine wine he wouldn’t mind getting drunk on. Rachel knew her boyfriend was a great kisser. It was a given fact, considering the multiple times they shared them during the war. They were innocent and shy moments of tenderness. This was a different kiss. A kiss that was for a love that had matured and blossomed from strength, courage and hope. A kiss that read _I want you now, tomorrow and always. I’ll protect you and love you forever._ A kiss signifying a man who loves his woman.

His hands gripped the fabric of her dress eagerly, his lips moving from hers, across the underside of her jaw to her delicate neck, careful not to leave any marks. Her breath caught in her throat and wriggled in response to her boyfriend’s soft kisses.

“Wait, wait,” sighed Rachel. She placed a hand against his chest to calm himself before getting too carried away. Doc’s dark blue eyes were filled with lust and intention; he had a plan for Rachel but an underlying fear was trapped behind them, thinking Rachel was going to scold him for moving too quickly with her. To his surprise, she merely smiled. Her eyes were dark and soulful. Doc liked the way her eyelids would softly blink over them, like she was keeping a secret for him and only him to uncover. He was about to open his mouth to speak, but her seductive gaze was enough to tell him otherwise. “Stand over there.”

Doc didn’t protest. He backed a few feet away from Rachel, unable to take his eyes off of her, still wondering what she had in store for him. She leaned against the foot of the bed, crossing one of her ankles over the other. A coy smile met her doll-like lips. She studied her boyfriend and felt her cheeks blush but didn’t falter as she spoke a set of words that felt so foreign to her. 

“Take your clothes off.” Doc widened his eyes briefly. A shy, but relieved smile crossed his lips. His shoulders relaxed knowing this was what Rachel wanted and that she wasn't cross with him. He kept looking at her intently. His hands slowly undid the buttons on his fatigue jacket, despite the slight tremor in his hands. 

Rachel moved back to him slowly, like she was walking on water, the coy smile still present on her face. She played with the buttons on his shirt, undoing each one meticulously. Both of their gazes were low to the ground. She looked briefly at the opening on his shirt. Her cheeks tinted scarlet seeing his toned muscles. She wanted to look away but she couldn't. She didn’t know where to start to touch him. She never imagined being in a situation with a man like this before. 

Doc cupped her chin with one of his hands and brought her face up to meet his. His blue eyes shined with a soft but seductive glint like the clear, moonlit waters of the sea that were calm and gentle before a violent storm. He could sense her hesitation. So sweet and innocent, like a lamb as her name suggested. His lips pulled back into a reassuring smile, his fingertips grazing underneath her chin.

 _“Ne vous inquiétez pas mon amour,”_ he purred, his voice blending into a deep whisper. He guided her hands back up to his chest before connecting his lips to her own again with much love. Their kisses were rhythmic as Rachel found her momentum and peeled her boyfriend’s shirt off of his body, hearing it drop to the floor as she made do of the belt buckle around his pants as his hands worked the buttons on her dress.

***

They shed the last of their clothes quickly before making love. He was all over her. She was his now, his forever and his always. He didn’t care that he and Rachel weren’t married yet. He pressed kisses into her neck, murmuring how selfish he was being and how he needed this and only her and promised to love her with all his heart, earning himself a laugh from his beloved at how serious he was being. He was attentive to her needs, keeping his hands in hers all night, sometimes tangling them in that sea of beautiful, dark brown waves. How he wished they could’ve done this in Bastogne. He whispered sweet nothings into her neck in French, just enough to send Rachel over the edge, sometimes feeling himself loosen up, laughing with her at how touchy feely he was getting. He heard her promises and aches of love as he gave into her and made her feel special throughout their christening.

***

They lay next to each other propped up on their elbows. Rachel drew her fingers down Doc’s biceps, a gentle smile formed over her lips as she traced the lines and ridges on his body. They looked at each other lovingly. It was probably a little after midnight, the bedroom window was propped open to get the air circulating again. Doc looked at his girlfriend, a tired but content smile crossed over his lips as he kissed her hands, amazed and praying that none of the other soldiers heard them. 

“God,” she chuckled. “What a night.”

“I’ll say,” chuckled Doc. He pressed soft kisses to the back of her hand and knuckles. He ran his thumb on the outside of her hand and looked at her adoringly in the silence. He relaxed as he gazed at Rachel, the smile growing on his face.

“What?” she said, the innocent smile spreading on her face. Doc breathed deeply, enamored by Rachel’s natural beauty, blinking a couple of times to make sure that she was still here with him. Though they had found each other again, there were still days where he had to remind himself that he wasn’t hallucinating.

“How’d we get so lucky?” he said. Rachel bit her lip as she sunk into the pillows in an attempts to hide her smile. 

“Lucky to be serving in a war together?” she chuckled. 

“More than that, babydoll,” said Doc, the tired but sweet smile never left his lips. He kissed her bare shoulder and rubbed two fingers against her arm. “I mean how’d we get so lucky to be with each other?”

“Well, think of it this way,” she said. She shifted herself so she was closer to her medic. “If we didn’t say anything to each other at the aid station, we wouldn’t have the relationship we have now.” Doc let out another soft chuckle. He wrapped his arm around Rachel and kissed her forehead, wrapping the two of them up in the thin, white cotton sheet. They were silent for a moment, hearing the late night chirps of the crickets and the water from outside. A sigh escaped Doc’s lips as his fingers massaged Rachel’s back. “I’m terrified if I have to go to the Pacific, _chère_.”

“Aww Gene,” said Rachel, tenderly. “I’m scared too. But, let’s not think about that right now. I don’t want to keep thinking about that.” She kissed his cheek and rubbed his abs. “Let’s focus on each other and the company that we’re sharing right now. Let’s savor it while we can.” Doc closed his eyes briefly as another sigh escaped his lips. 

“I was being serious about wanting a future with you, Rachel,” he said. He turned his head back towards her. Sleep began lingering in his dark eyes but blinked it away quickly. Even after the first time him and Rachel started to share a bed, he was always up longer than she was, wondering if she knew how much he loves her. “I hope you know that. It wasn’t the heat of the moment talkin.’” Rachel searched her boyfriend’s eyes and found nothing but sincerity. She smiled a tired smile at her medic. “I hope you know how much I love you, Rachel.”

“You love me a lot,” she said. She snuggled deeper against her medic, unable to fight the temptation of sleep as she kissed the underside of his jaw. “Hope you know that I love you just as much.” Doc smiled in the dark bedroom and stole a kiss from his beloved nurse.

“Yes,” he said. The two of them chuckled as they shared another long kiss before dozing off to sleep, dreaming about the war’s end and their life together away from the war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I am back! Ooo boy this chapter was steamy! (*swoons*) Like I mentioned in the tags before, it's not explicit, more along the lines of metaphorical. Wanted to leave something to the reader's imagination. I drew inspiration from the scene between Jon and Lena Basilone in The Pacific so that's where some of those elements came from to help me write this. I wanted to give another huge thank you to the people who have left Kudos on this story and for the comments, it means so much to me! Guess what?! I only have two more chapters to write and then this story will be finished! I'm happy but sad at the same time! Thank you guys for the 461 hits! It warms my heart knowing that you guys are still enjoying and reading my stuff. <3 Hope you enjoy this sexy chapter! ;)
> 
> French translations:  
> chère: My dear  
> Ne vous inquiétez pas mon amour: Fret not, my love.


	25. July 1945: Zell am See, Austria: 5,162 miles from The United States

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen to these as you read this chapter:
> 
> 1\. Main Theme-David McGarry (From Brothers in Arms: Earned in Blood) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hqJPvC-GoQ4&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=85
> 
> 2\. Music Credits- David McGarry (From Brothers in Arms: Earned in Blood) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pCmQIjKVYc0&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=93 (For when Liebgott is translating the German General's speech to his men)
> 
> 3\. Climbing For A Kiss- Rupert Gregson-Williams (From Hacksaw Ridge) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1xoEZQ0FMEM&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=121 (For when Doc and Rachel are at the lake)
> 
> 4\. Band of Brothers Suite Two- Michael Kamen (From Band of Brothers start it at 4:12) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w-NbVUFfHnY&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=97 (When easy Company plays baseball in the sun and Winters announces the war's end.)

The sun shone brightly the next day on a large field where thousands of German soldiers stood at attention, dressed in their grey decorated uniforms and sleek black peaked caps. The birds above sang a cheerful tune and flitted from the treetops chasing each other like a game of tag, the chirping infused with the low hum of the jeep engine and soft murmurs amongst the soldiers. Doc and Rachel were helping to load the large stacks of supplies back into the trucks to be shipped back to the states. 

“That’s the last of it for this truck, babydoll,” called Doc. Rachel brushed her hands together as soon as the last box was put into place to complete the puzzle. Doc extended his hands up to Rachel to help her get down. She took a hold of both of them and jumped out the back. She caught her balance against him and smiled, catching her breath in relief. “Thanks for the help, Rach. I appreciate it.”

“Happy to help my favorite guy,” she said. She planted a sweet kiss on his cheek, earning herself a shy smile and chuckle from him. Doc wrapped his arm around her waist as the two of them started walking towards another troop transport truck.

“You hungry, Rach?” said Doc. He hoisted himself up onto the back where Babe, Spina, Luz and some of the other soldiers were eating lunch, Rachel following suit. 

“Starving. My breakfast didn’t do me justice this morning,” said Rachel. 

“Didn’t have a cup of Gene this morning, Rachel?” said Luz, snickering behind a mouthful of soup, earning himself another round of laughter from Babe and Spina. Rachel’s cheeks flushed bright red like the crimson cross on her boyfriend’s armband. She bit on her lip to suppress her nervous fit of giggles. She swallowed and cleared her throat to regain her composure like a royal would. 

“That’s none of your business,” she replied. “But to answer your question, Gene, Yes. I am hungry.” Doc reached into his uniform pocket and pulled out a pair of wrapped sandwiches. 

“Two peanut butter and jellies. Made fresh this morning,” said Doc smiling. He placed one sandwich in her lap as he unwrapped his. “ _ Bon appetit.” _

The five of them sat and ate their lunches in peace as they watched a jeep carrying Major Winters, Captain Nixon and Lipton pull up to the large group of German soldiers. Lipton jumped out of the back as a German general approached the side of the jeep. Liebgott, saluting him as he took his place in the back seat of the vehicle.

The general was dressed in a smart red and grey overcoat, the black cross at the collar of his uniform, along with the other awards he received for his service. Even though his army had been defeated, he still walked towards the officers with pride and dignity. He bowed in respect to Winters, his bleach blonde hair sneaking out from under his peaked cap. Winters nodded before gesturing to Lipton. The general turned towards the 2nd Lieutenant. 

“With your permission I would like to address my men briefly,” the general said, his voice crisp and filled with honor but held a solemness to his words. 

“That’ll be fine, general,” said Lipton. The general nodded his head to the officers before rejoining his troops. The large supply truck pulled away to reveal a man whom Winters or the other soldiers thought they would never see again since their Toccoa days; Herbert Sobel. He walked like he always did, briskly like there was a chip on his shoulder he could never lose. The soldier walking with him saluted the major, Winters saluting back. Sobel gave a nasty look to his enemy like he didn’t even see him, still resentful that he wasn’t the one who led the invasion into Normandy and being demoted to supply captain. 

“Captain Sobel,” Winters said keeping his professional demeanor. 

“Major Winters,” Sobel said flatly. The former CO kept walking like he had more important matters to attend to like counting how many more supply boxes were getting shipped back to the states. 

“Captain Sobel,” said Winters again. Sobel stopped, attempting not to roll his eyes praying he would never have to hear Richard Winters’ voice ever again. “We salute the rank, not the man.” Sobel looked at the major, with his large gaunt eyes, slowly saluting him, Winters reciprocating the gesture. He took his hand away sharply as Sobel walked away, a smug smile appeared on Liebgott’s lips like he was thankful for having served alongside Winters throughout the war, rather than Sobel. Winters turned toward Nixon who merely smiled internally praising his best friend for how he handled the situation. The general began addressing his men, speaking loudly and clearly. 

“Liebgott?” said Winters. Liebgott stood against the side of the jeep, translating what the general was saying.

“Men, it’s been a long war. It’s been a tough war,” he started. “You fought bravely, proudly for your country. You are a special group. You found in one another a bond that exists only in combat. Among brothers, you’ve shared foxholes. You’ve held each other in dire moments. You’ve seen death and suffered together. I’m proud to have served with each and every one of you. You deserve long and happy lives in peace.” 

***

Doc and Rachel sat on the runoff platform by the lake again enjoying a moment of peace and quiet. They had finished assisting with the supply cleanup and their lunch, allowing for the rest of their day to be opened up to do as they pleased. Their feet hung off the edge of the platform, barely touching the crystal clear waters below them. He had changed into his white t-shirt and fatigue pants for more comfort from the heat. He kissed the side of his girlfriend’s head, sometimes running his hand through her curls as he attempted to pull her closer to him. It was little moments like these he cherished with Rachel. No plans. No schedule to follow. Just him and her sitting by the water’s edge without any disruptions from the other soldiers and enjoying each other’s company. 

“Mama’s excited to meet you, Rachel,” said Doc, a content and peaceful smile greeted his lips. 

“Really?” she said, smirking. “You’ve told your family about me, huh?” 

“A lot, actually,” said Doc, chuckling. “I’ve written about you in all my letters to my family.” She smiled as she rested her head into the crook of his neck. 

“Yeah?” she said, a gentle smile meeting her lips. She snuggled closer to him, feeling the cool cotton of his white t-shirt against her side. “What’d your mom say?” 

“The usual stuff mom stuff,” said Doc, chuckling. “Asking how I’m doing, when I’m gonna bring you to Louisiana so she can meet you in person.” Rachel chuckled. She shifted her weight against him to crack her spine before settling against his chest again. “She thinks you’re beautiful.” 

“She does?” said Rachel, giving her boyfriend a playful smile. He smiled warmly at Rachel. 

“Well, she ain’t wrong.” She smiled at him modestly before he stole a delicate kiss from her. He wrapped both of his arms around her, pulling her into a loving embrace. 

“Kinda strange that the war’s over. Isn’t it?” said Rachel, thoughtfully. Doc tucked his legs next to him and sighed. 

“It is strange,” said Doc. “I didn’t think it’d be possible to witness civilian life again.” The two of them sat up and looked at the cloudless blue sky, thinking about the thousands of soldiers lying in the fields of France, Holland and Belgium that didn’t live to see the end of the war. The thousands of men the two of them couldn’t save but were probably watching down on them from Heaven. Doc opened his lips like he was about to form a sentence, but found difficulty finding the right words. He swallowed before opening his mouth again. “How am I gonna adjust to living a normal life again, Rachel? It seems so distant now.” 

Rachel sat up and moved next to her boyfriend. She kissed his cheek and rubbed his arm tenderly. 

“Well, you don’t have to do it alone,” said Rachel. “You’ve got me now, Gene.” She smiled her sweet, infectious smile and squeezed his shoulder in reassurance. Doc turned towards her, feeling his dour expression melt into a small smile twitching at the corners of his lips. He thought of the wounded soldiers at the aid station in Bastogne, how they would be calmed by her gentle presence and that comforting smile. A magical smile that gave the impression everything was gonna be okay, the same smile she gave him when he felt down on himself. “I know it’s going to be a tough road to pave, but we’ll help each other get back on track as best as we can.” She crossed her heart the same way she did that night in the Ardennes. “ _ Je promets, mon beau.” _

Doc’s small smile grew broader. He kissed her without hesitation, wishing he had the ability to freeze time and savor this moment forever. He couldn’t wait to start his life with Rachel. He was thankful she had survived, thankful they had found each other during a time where hope seemed to die and rot like a carcass.

“Rachel, no amount of words can describe how much I love you,” he said, smiling. She chuckled, trying to respond that she loves him too but was cut off by another sweet kiss from her medic. They left lingering kisses on their lips, foreheads touching, not wanting to break away from each other. “Hey, there’s this baseball game that Easy’s putting on soon. You wanna come watch?” 

“I would love to,” said Rachel, excitedly. 

***

The Easy soldiers gathered on a large baseball diamond. A symphony of cheers, hoots and hollers of joy rang through the valley of the Alps like church bells on a Sunday morning. Rachel stood off to the side watching her boyfriend run the bases, rounding close to third as he booked it back to home plate. 

“Here comes the Doc!” The soldiers threw the ball back to the catcher, Rachel nearly jumping up and down with excitement and calling from the sidelines.

“Come on, Gene! Don’t slow up! Don’t slow up!” she called. She couldn’t help but smile as she watched him run back to home. He slid, but was tagged out at the last second, another chorus of awws, filled the distance. Doc lay back in the dirt, laughing before turning himself over to get himself back up on his feet, jogging back over to Rachel who was leaning against the front of one of the jeeps. She held his canteen out and offered it too him. 

“Thanks babydoll,” he said as he took a sip of water. He wiped his lips before handing it back over to her. Rachel screwed the cap back on and smiled as she slung his canteen back across her body.

“You looked good out there, slugger,” she said. Doc rested against the front of the jeep to catch his breath. 

“Yeah you think so?” he said smiling. The playful smile was still present on Rachel’s face. She leaned up to kiss him.

“Does that answer your question?” she smiled. He smiled at his girlfriend, beaming from ear to ear. The two of them watched his friends taking their turn to bat at the plate or to play in the outfield before it was his turn again. He gave Rachel a quick kiss before jogging back over to his fellow soldiers. The game continued on until Winters and Nixon came over.

“Get ‘em round,” said Winters. Speirs stood up from his position and walked towards the center of the field.

“Easy Company!” he called. “School circle!” The soldiers stopped their game and circled up around the officers. 

“Listen up,” said Winters. “I’ve got some news. This morning, President Truman received the unconditional surrender from the Japanese. War’s over.” The soldiers listened to what Winters was telling them, standing quietly and attentively. The two words each man had longed to hear, regardless of points, medals or wounds, each man in the 101st Airborne would be going home. Each would be forever connected by their shared experience and each would have to rejoin the world as best he could. Doc and Rachel looked at each other and embraced, knowing they were never going to have to treat wounded men ever again. Their main focus now was to spend as much time together in peace and quiet on the Bayou where they would live for the rest of their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! 483 hits?? My goodness!! Thank you guys for reading this I appreciate it! One more chapter to go! (brb crying in the club! :'O) But that means I'll be able to get back to working on one of my other stories soon! Thank you all again for being so awesome and supporting this story! Comments and Kudos are always welcome here!
> 
> French translations:  
> Bon appetit: Good eating  
> Je promets, mon beau.: I promise, my handsome one.


	26. Epilogue: 1947 Bayou Chene, Louisiana; 1,644 miles from Boston, Massachusetts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen to this as you read the Epilogue
> 
> 1\. Near You- The Andrews Sisters https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xang9wmed4s&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=124
> 
> 2\. Homecoming- Hans Zimmer, Geoff Zanelli & Blake Neely (From The Pacific) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pBdts75EhVE&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=68

The war had been over for a good couple of years now. Life was beginning to go back to the way it was before. Just as Doc had promised himself and Rachel, he became a construction contractor at Custom Management and Maintenance Inc. He enjoyed the work since he needed to keep his hands busy. Doc stood outside against his old childhood home out back, trying to think of the words he wanted to write to Rachel. It had been a while since they last saw each other, however they were still very much in love from their words exchanged in their letters. 

Doc missed Rachel everyday. He wished she lived closer so it was easier for him to see her, but was fortunate enough to visit her in Boston whenever he could. He didn't realize how simple it was to meet up with her during the war. He could call her, but he preferred writing; he liked how Rachel's cursive looped on the page. He smiled to himself just thinking about that pretty smile he had fallen in love with, giving him inspiration to keep writing. 

Rachel approached the Roe household with a huge smile on her face. She didn't tell her boyfriend that she was coming for she wanted to keep it a surprise. Only his parents knew as they greeted her at the front door. Mrs. Roe saw her and greeted her on the front porch steps. 

“Hello sweetheart!” said Mrs. Roe beaming, her Cajun accent slipping out especially on the l’s, just like Gene. She hugged her tightly for she always enjoyed it whenever she came over. “Oh darlin’ you’re lookin’ lovely as always!” Rachel smiled as she smoothed her soft pink shirt dress. Her curls started to frizz a bit but she didn’t care. 

“Thank you, Mrs. Roe,” said Rachel. 

“Eugene’ll be so happy to see you, dear” chuckled Mrs. Roe. “There isn't a day that goes by where your name don’t pass that boy’s lips. I told him, ‘Eugene you best get to writing that girl another letter or Imma do it fo’ you!”

“Well, I’m here now.” smiled Rachel. “He still doesn't know I’m here yet, correct?” 

“Nope, not yet honey,” said Mrs. Roe. “We didn't know if you wanted us to tell him or if you wanted to do that yourself.” Doc’s mother and father lead her inside of the house. “You want somethin’ to drink  _ chère _ ?”

“Not right now but thank you,” said Rachel. “I’d like to tell Gene that I’m here. I want to see his reaction.” Mrs. Roe took a hold of Rachel’s hands and pat them.

“Good idea,” said Mrs. Roe. She let out a soft chuckle. “I think that’ll make him happy. Oh! Gene said he’s also got a lil somethin’ fo’ you but he wanted to give it to you when you saw each other again.”

“Where is Gene by the way?” said Rachel. Mr. Roe glanced out the kitchen window. He saw his third born with his back against it, writing thoughtfully with a pen. 

“He’s out back,” said Mr. Roe. 

“We’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything, Rachel,” said Mrs. Roe smiling.

“Thank you, both,” said Rachel smiling. She smoothed her dress as she headed out back. 

Doc continued standing near his house, the pen never ceasing to think of words as they continued flowing across the piece of parchment paper. Rachel came into the back and stood against the wall, smiling. She crossed her arms in front of each other her ankle crossed over the other.

“Whatcha writing, mister?” said Rachel. “A novel?”

“No. A letter to my girl--” Doc turned around upon hearing that voice he knew all too well. “Rachel.” She continued smiling as she waved to her boyfriend. Doc dropped his paper and writing utensil as he ran to her, she doing the same. The two lovers embraced each other tightly. Doc kissed his beautiful girlfriend passionately

“Oh babydoll I missed you so much!” said Doc, trying to contain his excitement.

“I missed you too,” said Rachel looking up at her boyfriend dreamily. Doc smiled as he tucked some of her hair behind her ear and kissed her again. 

“I had no idea you were coming!” 

“Surprise!” said Rachel sweetly. Doc still thought that he was dreaming. He chuckled and ran his fingers through his raven hair before holding her arms gently. 

“Did you just get in?” said Doc

“I did,” said Rachel. “The flight was very relaxing. Hardly any turbulence.”

“How long was your flight?” said Doc.

“About 3 hours and 16 minutes,” said Rachel. “But it was worth it.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and stared deeply into his eyes. Doc smiled and held her waist. 

“It certainly was,” said Doc. He captured her into another long and passionate kiss. “I can’t believe you’re here!” He picked up Rachel and spun her around, causing her to laugh. “Now that you're here, there's been something I’ve been wanting to ask you for a while now.” Doc took a hold of her hand brought her further into the backyard. The magnolia trees were in full bloom, the wind rustling the trees as some of the white flower petals fell. He held both of her hands into his own, gazing into her eyes lovingly. Mr. and Mrs. Roe stood at the kitchen window, watching what their son was doing. 

“Rachel, from that day I came to the aid station for supplies, you caught my attention out of all the other nurses,” he began. “For good reason too. I thought of you often whether I was sitting in my foxhole out in the cold, inside of the convent at Rachamps, anywhere. You always were and still are on my mind. Now, I know I’ve probably said this about a million times now but I'll say it in a million and one.” Doc kept his eye contact strong. He felt his hands grow clammy but he needed Rachel to hear this. He couldn’t wait any longer. 

“You’ve brought so much positivity and light into my life. I’m happy whenever we spend time together. I love you, Rach. More than anything else in the world. You, are the most incredible woman I'm lucky to know and call my girlfriend and hopefully---” Doc kept his eye contact strong as he got down onto one knee and took a tiny velvet box from his pocket and opened it to reveal a small but elegant diamond ring: his grandmother's ring that he had carried with him all throughout the war. “---my wife.” Rachel looked at the ring as happy tears cornered her eyes. She held her hands up to her mouth as the tears poured down her face. “Rachel Bartlett, will you marry me?” She nodded her head and smiled, her eyes blurring the more she tried to hold back. 

“Yes!” she said. “Yes! I will!” Doc beamed with pride as he stood up and slid the ring onto her finger. Rachel looked at the ring for a moment with that same beautiful smile, causing more tears of joy to fall. Doc smiled and kissed her gently before hugging her and lifting her off of the ground, unbeknownst to him his parents were watching from the kitchen window, his mother crying tears of joy as she watched her son and his fiancée share several kisses. The most difficult chapter Doc and Rachel faced together had closed, some scars not visible but still lingering in the back of their minds, unable to forget the men who didn’t survive. But the thing that did survive the war, was their love for each other. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus concludes To Be Loved With All My Heart. I hope you all enjoyed reading this wonderful story (I still can't believe I finished it! Just in time for Memorial Day too!) Be on the lookout for more Band of Brothers fics! (Don't worry, this isn't the last we've seen of our beloved Cajun medic!) Thank you guys for reading and being awesome fans. Til the next story, Currahee!


End file.
